Sacrifice

Laying upon the rocky altar

bloody and in chains

Demons cluster at my feet

rejoicing in my pain.

They feed upon my despair, the words woven

they suckle deep at the deceptions I weave

Gorging upon my flesh, my soul

until bloated they fall aside,

To be replaced by some more.

I stare blankly at the mountain above

knowing not the damage done

for the demons have once more come.

And I fall into their dreams, their blatant bullshit

while their claws dig deep, making me wince.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

April 26/17

 

Naked

I stand, naked before the mirror, looking at my flaws;

a thickening waist, breasts that are beginning to sag,

a small belly from carrying my son…

I am aging.

When I was 12, 18 seemed so far away

when I was 18, 25 was a century away

When I was 27,  I cried my first set of tears

because now I knew what it meant to be aging.

At 30 I learned that the turbulent emotions I have felt for years

the anger and rage that I spewed on my family

Was due to undiagnosed depression;

the fact I needed to sedate and obliviate

was something I figured was due.

At 35 I discovered I was pregnant and spent my time in fear

for previously I had lost my daughter,

and how could I go through that again?

My child was born a tribute to his father;

identical in looks I would say

But as he grew and aged the truth became apparent,

after his mother does he take.

Now I am 44 and before the mirror I do stand;

I see my flaws, my double chins, the crow’s feet around my eyes

but I have a better understanding, I am more free

from the child I was, the child I crave to be;

Peter Pan rides my dreams, for Neverland is true.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

March 15/17

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