i always keep the idea of you close to me
just below the surface, just behind who i am
something to remind me of what could’ve been
of broken promises and unrealistic demands

sometimes i see you when i close my eyes
and you’re always just as i imagined you’d be
then i remember where i am and why i’m here
and i remember all the things they’ve done to me

when i feel guilty that i won’t share you with anyone
i remember inside me you’re always safe and loved
because there’s nowhere else you could go to escape
nowhere where good intentions would be enough

people try to understand but i can’t explain
it’s just something that i know deep inside
the only way you can have the life you deserve
is if i keep you buried within my mind

the clock strikes twelve
the knocking begins
… a constant reminder
of the difference in my thinking

grace was not all it was cracked up to be, the insane ramblings of a woman obsessed, the rites of passage blurred by resentment, wrath featured daily, nothing more, nothing less

the fall caused bruises to be sure, but it couldn’t be said they were worse than the scars, the years of abuse damaging the brain and soul, much more than having fallen so far

but God is gracious, and always welcomes back into the fold, those children who repent, and the wrath of God knows no bounds when scorned, ignored or shown contempt

you will never escape the fire in her eyes, nor the lashings of her poisoned tongue, but you will rest soundly, with the knowledge in your heart, that breaking the cycle has begun

She causes problems, she lives for drama, and you have to sooth the ego of the savage beast when it runs rampant. She brings this on herself, every single damn time. And when she’s caught out, she reacts like she couldn’t possibly be guilty of the very crimes she gleefully admits to partaking in at other times. But how dare mere mortals accuse her of anything other than being the most beatific, innocent creature ever created in the history of the world.

Your heart aches and your face hurts from faking the smile of a lifetime. You don’t want to feel this way, and you don’t want her to be a psychopath. You don’t want to hate what you love, despise what you once adored and worshiped. But you are the moon to her planet, a celestial being to be fascinated by, to revolve around her all-encompassing importance, so you will never be released. Your brain spasms with this revelation daily. Those who know coo softly and comfortingly, repairing your soul while promising nothing will change.

She’s a knife in your frontal lobe, a thorn in your side, a ring of fire around the pedestal of refuse she forces you to dance on. You cannot escape. You must make believe, pretend, be the greatest actor of all, or she will stalk you, burn you, and break you. She must know in her heart that she is adored and admired, or you will never get any rest. Your life is her life reincarnated. You are the spawned, the adored, the revered, and only time and nature can save you.

conceived in desperation
born as one is bought
possessed and designed
to teach, not to be taught

spewed into existence
caged, clipped like a bird
born to be kept so pretty
and quiet, not to be heard

brought along as a saviour
the nucleus of your world
not given the chance to just live
to behave like a little girl

spoilt, ruined and soured
primped, preened and posed
poor little poor baby
a princess in pauper’s clothes

molded into your likeness
developed as your own echo
admired with your vanity
and kept forever in your shadow

manipulated to feel for you
and used as a go-between
twisted, torn and abused
pulled apart at the seams

given up as a traitor
and betrayed by all your lies
sacrificed to save your face
a scapegoat to be despised

abandoned and neglected
left alone, bleeding and raw
fallen from your grace, in the cold
just a casuality in your war