Ghosts of You

Stalking my dreams, again I find you there, my fighting to wake and escape from unwanted memories. Why don’t you grieve, hurt or suffer? Why must I lug your trunk of tricks and misery everywhere I go? I feel sick when I come across your photograph smiling and surrounded by good people who don’t know your dirty and deeper secrets. I wonder if you know your own plays, remember the truth of who you are. No one is guaranteed a good life and that alone makes me doubt often any holiness, or sacred recipes exist for us plain ole daily folk. We get sick, die too young or are burdened with poverty, mental illnesses and responsibilities. We don’t run. Step by step we inch toward death with unfulfilled wishes that seem frivolous and only for the one’s that break the rules, sprint from their trunk overflowing with the messes they create, leaving behind their trash for the good doer’s to deal with. In my dream I beg to anyone, an entity of love and life to bar you from my sleep. I know that your dreams are not full of the pain you left others with. You dream of walks along the water, delicious cuisine, fancy clothes and being adored. You do not dream of the children you abandoned or your family that is simple and have stopped wanting more. I will never be “paid back”, you will get the golden egg and my heart will still stray sometimes to unwanted thoughts of you. Tiny bits of pain slip into my illusions, completely disagreeing with my longing for peace each night. Dear Holier, hopefully stronger Spirits fill my night with those who love me and lock the trunk so not even a thief’s expertise can reveal more tonight. Dreams please be kind.

Side Steps

Each step, as far down as I can see has little doors; some to the left and some to the right. Some of these doors have been opened by some one else and they left a note for me to read. The notes were about BaD DaD. Some doors are barred with iron bolts and I can not enter or hear anything. These doors are not to protect me but to protect BaD DaD. They carry his past and present and things that others put in a red box marked, “Case Closed”. These are the enablers. I will call them “Hiders”. They do not want to know him; they choose to see only the things that make them happy or less guilty. The Hiders of “Him”, the one who broke into me, who tried to disable me with deceit and callousness, these hiders were part of my family. Be sure now. NOW. Do you want to go and read the notes with me? Will you hold my hand or turn me loose because it is too heavy? I can not stay on the top step forever. I am preparing to open the door to the light where real Love exists. I will shut the door and never go back, but first I must uncover, share and stomach the worst version of “Him”; the saddest version of “little me”. I want you to stay. I won’t lie; I am afraid.

Before Me

The boy’s parents divorced and his mother struggled to keep her job and her two children fed. She wasn’t neglectful but unable to afford what many other families had. She had come from poverty herself and had been raised on a farm in rural Georgia.

The beautiful girl also came from a different sort of poverty, despite her father owning boarding houses and a local market she lacked the type of love that a family generally is thought to generate. Her father was a troubled man and her mother worked in the store serving customers. The girl shared a room with 5 siblings in the back of the store and felt ashamed. Yet, she took on more work in other stores, even in a doll hospital. She enjoyed making her world more pleasant. Often she brought the boyfriend who was often hungry back to the store and made him grilled cheese sandwiches.

The boy told lots of big stories to his friends at school, and those stories grew bigger than life and the lovely, honest and hardworking girl broke up with him.

She had been warned that she would lose her position as a cashier at her job she went to after school and on weekends. Why? Because the boy stood watch over her, hung around the store and it made her and her boss uncomfortable. Despite moving forward after breaking up with the boy, he refused to leave her alone.

#METOO