Tag Daughter

Projection – dVerse

freyathewriter 17 Comments

anais-1

i blamed it on you

all the less-important-than

all the i’m-not-good-enough-for

sometimes it’s easier than –

easier than – owning it myself.

No, being honest, not just sometimes.

always.

I stared balefully at you whilst you were lying there

almost-but-not-quite hating you from the depths of my F-d up love

for doing it again (again)

for leaving without so much as a goodbye

– this time

the one where there’s no turning back.

It wasn’t you though.

You didn’t put those thoughts in my head,

it was my internal compass seeking magnetic north

and finding south –

as per.

So, I own my thoughts now

they’re mine.

All mine.

You’re pretty much off the hook, as you should have been from the beginning.

 

I’m a bit late to the party of the final day of the dVerse 5th anniversary celebrations, but hopefully better late than never!

We have the joy of an interview with Anthony Desmond, get to read one of his great poems and are encouraged to write on the subject of a belief that we have realised is no longer true, or our feelings when pressured to change our minds. Quite a subject!

Here’s my offering, I hope you find it interesting. Catharsis is the order of the day at the moment.

Please do head on over to dVerse to read the interview with Anthony, read the poetry created by the talented dVerse bunch and… why not have a go yourself?

 

 

Cicatrix – Sunday Mini Challenge – Real Toads

freyathewriter 19 Comments

DSC_0002

The image of you has softened over time
I see you, prostrate, as if through film star soft-focus
Still, at last, still, forever
and yet if I push myself through that ghost-laden portal
I know that you have taken on a different form
you are transformed into no more than

Ash

Dispersed on the winds
I breathe you in
You become part of me in more than the accepted ways, Dad
Your death doesn’t hurt in the way it once did
No longer lacerates, no longer eviscerates

Stigmata

But I am left behind
But I am in sorrow for the missed opportunities
But I am swallowed by regret that I
can never have that conversation
Never explain that I understand you better

Never confess that I judged you too harshly

Never reveal that there is so much more of you in me

than I ever cared to admit or wanted then

Never tell you that I welcome that

Now

But, at least, the knife-edge cicatrix
of the loss of you has faded
I can smile at the thought of you
because I think of you

Often

 

This was inspired by the prompt found over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, where we are encouraged to write about something that is both harrowing, and hallowed. A challenging prompt, for sure, but it helps to write about these things, to transfer the ever-whirling thoughts to print, at least for a while.

Why not pop on over to the Real Toads blog, and take a look, take part?

Back Story – Magpie Tales

freyathewriter 1 Comment

tom chambers

Daughter dear, you can run, but you can’t hide. You may have killed me, you may have inflicted the ultimate revenge on me for my so-called cold, cold heart.

But you know nothing of my life. You have no idea that I fought tooth and nail to keep you, that I escaped from the unwed mothers’ home that I was sent to. I knew that I would never be able to keep you, so I ran. I ran, taking you with me, changed my name  and started our lives anew.

You ungrateful child. I built my fortune on hard work, and hard work alone. I created a legacy for you. And then I heard you complaining to your scientist friends about me. And then I realised that you hated me, that you would stop at nothing to break free.

So, go ahead child. Break free. See how you survive with no home, no liberty, no mother to care for you.

I trusted nobody. But I forgot not to trust you.

————

Image by Tom Chambers

Here’s my latest entry into Magpie Tales. There is a theme running through my weekly writings once again. If you want to know more about the mother-daughter relationship please read my Five Sentence Fiction  and Three Word Wednesday entries.