The Beginning of the End

Sacrifice

Lend all but your leg to feed love's hunger

forgetting that you were happier before

blinded with images of what could be

losing track of what it means to be free

Disappointment

Hope is always followed by pain

every excuse sounds the same

love is hiding behind a dark curtain

making you believe it will come again

heart ache appears around every corner

It's finally time for this to be over

The End

Hope flickering like a suffocating flame

Memories that brought laughter no longer remain

tears fall freely now

bringing release and cleansing

all that was is no more

holding on to images now so far

positive outlook ripped and torn

realization that nothing was as it seemed

falling from the summit like a bird without wings

The Fall

Like flesh ripping over asphalt

how can this be what is best for me?

eyes burn, head throbs, stomach churns

but oh the heart

suffocating agony clenches your chest

you feel it beat

yet it feels hollow and collapsed

how is heart ache so physical

this kind of pain shouldn't be possible

memories swirling through your head

you question the choice you made

so much is lost

nothing was gained  

Alone

Quiet surrounds me

pain encompasses my body mind and soul

my heart beats but lacks its life

so much time fighting, clenching, hoping

all is lost

time passed carrying meaning

what meaning

I fell into loves trap 

not knowing that love seldom gives back

alone, alone, alone

feel the word engulf your being

this end does not feel like a new beginning

Two days before Christmas, Rich had one of his explosive tantrums.  He was in the garage fixing something on his car and it was apparent that things weren't going according to plan.  Betty and I were sitting in the kitchen fixing soup for dinner and all we heard was a continuous stream of cuss words and loud clanks from car parts being thrown at garage walls.  I started to recognize the feeling swelling inside of me.  Fear.  It took me a long time to identify fear as what had filled my childhood with sickening anxiety.  Because I was never allowed to discuss what was wrong, I was never able to name what was making me so sick.  As we waited for Rich's imminent entry, I started to notice that I was becoming shaky, reality seemed to become more and more hazy.  My hands developed beads of sweat and my head began to spin with tiny dots of bright light.  These were the feelings I had as a child when I had no way of escaping.  My defense had been to endure the moment and quickly forget that it had happened.  I had become an expert at altering my reality to remove these moments from my consciousness.  This was one of my first encounters with my family's anger that I was able to process and place into memory.

Rich stormed into the house yelling.  He was attempting to remove his coat, but it got stuck on his arm.  He thrashed and tore at the coat as though the coat itself was the reason for all his failures.  The coat was stubborn and held on to his hand as he swung it around onto the ground where he stomped on it and finally removed the life from its limp fabric.  His eyes were burning with rage as he searched the room for something to take his anger out on.  I felt myself tremble as his eyes passed over me and slid over Betty.  His bowl of soup was sitting ready for him on the counter.  He reached out to pick it up and as he did, the bowl tipped spilling hot soup on his hand.  "Mother Fucker!!!  This soup is so god damn hot!"  The bowl of soup went flying across the kitchen watering the floor with chicken and rice before shattering on the tile.  He glared at Betty as though the hot soup had been her secret plot against him.  He took her by the shoulders and shook her before turning and running into the laundry room slamming the door before kicking the wall over and over until a huge hole had torn through the dry wall. 

Betty ran to the basement escaping into the cool dark guest room.  She sat in silence letting her head fall limply to her chest, her silver hair falling over her tear stricken face.  I tiptoed into the room and sat next to her putting my hand over hers.  She was trembling and her silent tears turned to sobs.  "I'm so afraid.  I'm so scared.  I don't know what to do.  He gets worse and worse everyday.  His anger is taking control of everything."  I recognized the state she was in.  I had been there many times, but because I had never had a way out, I had kept myself from focusing on the truth.  Denial had been my only means of survival.  I knew Betty had other options.  This was my opportunity to save someone else from the entrapment of an abusive family. 
I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth.  The truth sounded so foreign after I had spent my whole life defending a facade that I had clung to as my only life line.  "Betty you don't have to stay with him.  You need to get out now.  There is no reason for you to endure this suffering.  I had no option, but you do.  Leave."

 The next day I packed up my things and left.  Telling Betty that she had the option to leave reminded me that I did too.  This was my first step to freedom.  I drove away staring into Betty's sunken eyes, hoping that she too would take back the control of her life.