Thoughts and Memories

Memory may be imperfect,

but mine lasts a long time.

Some things I remember,

some are lost along the line.

Still, never in my wildest dreams

did I imagine something like this.

Never would I have considered

Taking another swing after a miss.

“If at first you don’t succeed,

try, try again,” said our old friend,

a quote I failed to take to heart

from our Founding Father, Ben.

Now, though, I look around,

bemused and wondering what I see.

Uncertainty and anxiety, my friends,

and the results of severe PTSD.

My memory is long, and I

remember vividly how we

fit together and you inspired

romanticism in poetry from me.

Still, memory is broken in places

and I find myself wondering

just who it is you’ve become, now,

and I can’t stop pondering.

Encountering Evil

Crawling out of the woodwork like a termite,

his toxicity, like tentacles slither out, poison

to the sweet sapling that must be moistened,

protected only by the tamarin and her vicious bite.

Damaged walls let the poisoned gases in,

inhabitant unsuspecting of incoming damage

or even the glaring lack of proper bandage

over wounds never healed; they easily reopen.

Small, innocent soul, unknowingly tortured by

the confusion and disruption: betrayed by him,

a most trusted companion she held above all sin,

in the highest esteem; surely, he was unable to lie.

Confusion and chaos abound in her mind,

put to rest only by motherly affection and love,

protected, held close within Mama’s glove,

so, to the demonic manipulation, she is blind.

Discomfort seeps in, touching everyone with infection;

social constructs do the best to make it squirm.

One can find comparison to it with the worm,

an apt comparison in terms of lacking verbal inflection.

It’s enabled and encouraged by a female so vile,

her vitriol, never-ending, just sprays and spews

to those she cannot control with her narrow views

and manipulation tactics that only provoke bile.

Nausea, rocking, churning, bubbling like a hot sea,

a physical response to psychological stress

unnecessarily exacerbated in times of distress,

appetites turned as sour as a lost, forgotten pea.

I knew what it was when I laid eyes on it at first,

a hideous, disgusting energy, vile as vomit,

disguising itself with the success of a large comet

shooting through a night only described as the worst.

As I watched, the shape transformed, a mask

seeping over the visage I’d glimpsed but quickly;

my soul knew the evil as I do now as its sickly

energy could be drunk like liquid from a flask.

But then I allowed it to slip on its mask before

I knew what was even happening before my eyes.

He gave meaning to the phrase, “time flies,”

and I became lost within its darkness, craving more.

A Letter to My Former Husband

Dear Heartbreaker,

You don't deserve my thoughts or my emotions, yet you provoke me just enough to elicit repsonse. You know you do this because you're a Narcissist and everything you do is deliberate.

You told me you loved me. You told me you needed me. Then, without so much as wind of warning, you left me high and dry, wondering why we couldn't have gone to counseling to work through our issues. I was blessed to have our daughter with me.

You're a liar. Nothing you ever told me was true unless it was easily disproven, like your age, hometown, and other shallow information that only penetrates the peripheral layers of your self. Everything else was fabrication, deception, and manipulation.

I tried so hard to work with you. I did everything in my power to communicate effectively. Nothing was ever enough. You wouldn't stick to things you agreed to. You constantly told me things were "taken care of," but the moment we separated it was as though doors had opened and I was buried under the lies in the form of bills you'd left unpaid.

I worked up the courage to have you served. I thought to myself, "He told me he wanted to marry me all over again. This can be his opportunity to prove it." But, just like with bills, you proved that you're a liar, because you've never once asked me how I'm doing. You haven't once asked what I'm up to. When you first left, you ignored all of my posts about our daughter and our well-being. Now, you end every interaction you start with, "Deuces," and you spell it wrong.

My heart is broken, but I don't want your excuses anymore. I'm putting the pieces back together all by myself. You never once tried to help me put the pieces of my heart together in the first place; I simply had them taped in a group to try keeping the whole thing together in one place. Still, I think you took a piece or two when you went.

You can say whatever you want. You can give me the flimsy excuse that you "didn't have time," but I know that's a lie. All you do is lie and create bullshit excuses for your inappropriate behavior. I know what's real and what's not, since you've been gone, and you will never know how often my face leaks or doesn't over what I thought was supposed to be with you.

We were supposed to have a family. We were supposed to be an unstoppable force of love that would push forward and take the world by storm. Instead, you're a lazy piece of shit who wants to make excuses, lie on his ass, collect money he doesn't deserve, and spin tales of success that never happened.

I offered couples counseling multiple times. When I suggested it while we were together, you failed to follow through, just like you refused to drive me to my follow-up appointment after surgery and I totaled my car. Your response was less than sympathetic and I should have known then, like I should have known when you went behind my back to get formula for our newborn, that you do not care for me. You have no love for me. You have no respect for me.

Well, I have none of those things for you, either, anymore. Karma will find her way to you. I know you do a lot of innocuous tasks to keep her at bay, but she'll find you. She has her ways.

Sincerely,
The Woman Who Loved You Most.