Those Words

“You’re such a spoiled brat.

I don’t have time for your petty problems.

I have to take care of myself.”

Those are the words you yelled at me

as I sat in the hall

after you hung up on my friend

who told you I was going to try to kill myself.

Coincidentally,

those are also the words you yelled at me

when I decided that I hated you

because I knew at that point

I could never forgive you.

 

Advertisements

The Kitchen Drawer

When I was in the eighth grade,

you made it quite clear

that I was not YOUR child

when you kicked my mother,

my brother and I

out of the house after an argument.

You broke the drawer off,

the one with knives,

in your fury.

I thought you were going to kill her

right in front of me.

You pinned her to the wall

and spat on her face

as you belittled her

and screamed at her

for some stupid little reason.

You told her to take HER kids

and get out.

I wasn’t even allowed

to get my shoes. Or a coat.

We sat in the car

in the driveway

to a house where I grew up

and cried. And cried.

We did not know where to go.

I told my mother to divorce you.

I told we could move in with grandma.

I told her we could come to get our things

once he was at work tomorrow.

She didn’t listen.

I wish she had

because now I am just as damaged.

You welcomed us back

and acted as though nothing was wrong;

that nothing had happened.

You pretended that everything

was the same as always.

But I know better because

the kitchen drawer doesn’t have a handle

 

 

 

9 Years

9 years.

That’s a long time.

That’s how long I was waiting.

Waiting for you to notice me.

Waiting for you to see me.

Waiting for you to say you love me.

Waiting for you to hear me cry myself to sleep,

maybe on just one of those nights

and to ask me what was wrong.

That’s 3,287 chances you had

and you didn’t use any of them.

So now here we are.

You want to make amends

and try to make  it up to me for

all the times you ignored me

when I needed you most;

when you were all that I needed.

But you have damaged me.

I cannot be fixed.

I cannot be retaught that I deserve love

after all the times you showed me I did not.

 

 

 

 

The Emotional Abuse

Because of you, I don’t trust anyone, not even myself.

I can’t stand up for myself.

I can’t do anything.

Because of you, I question my own memories.

I obviously can’t be right

or you wouldn’t be angry.

Because of you,  I have anxiety severe enough that I have to receive help for it.

I walk on eggshells so I don’t trip the magic wire

that sets you off on nothing.

Because of you, I’m ashamed to have people come over.

You’re a different person and it breaks me.

Why don’t I deserve that kindness and easy-going?

Because of you, I’m afraid to leave.

I don’t have anywhere else to go.

How do I turn my back on family?

Because of you, I am passive.

I just do what I have to do to be compliant.

I have to protect myself.

Because of you, I cry. A LOT.

Every night for 9 years to be exact.

I wonder what I did to deserve this.

Because of you, I can’t look people in the eye.

They probably think I’m rude, or not paying attention,

but that connection has hurt me many times in the past.

Because of you, I feel powerless.

I fell I have to take it.

I feel like I have no control.

Because of you, I have no self-esteem.

If I don’t and can’t deserve your love,

then who else would ever love me?

Because of you, I fear men.

I can’t have a relationship because what if?

What if they are all the same?

What if they will hurt me too?

What if I can never escape?

Holiday Feels

Nothing quite brings out the “Holiday Feels”

like being the only single one at the table.

Nothing reminds me of the hurt

filling my empty heart

like seeing the love and joy that fills many others.

Nothing brings me such pain

as dreaded questions and comments like

“Why didn’t you bring someone?” or

“Oh, well there’s always next year”.

Nothing brings me such envy

as seeing kisses and tenderness

that I can only imagine in dreams

Nothing brings me the “Holiday Feels”

like being subjected to time with family.

Baffy

Several years ago, during a different time

I was gifted with the name Baffy.

While indeed this was a serious typo

of my actual name, I don’t think it was a mistake.

I like to believe that this nickname is derived

from the verb baffled which means many things.

I am bewildering and perplexing

I am a puzzle and I am confusing.

I mystify and confuse many.

I am all of these things and more.

I am hard to understand

even when I try to make things clear.

Do I baffle you? So what? Get on board.

Doesn’t everyone need a little mystery in their life?

 

#THATSNOTMYNAME

Guess why I’m writing this poem

And you might succeed. It’s

Because you don’t seem to know my name, which is

Really disappointing.

I’d like to say I’m not upset, but

Even I can’t help but be offended that you haven’t

Learned my name in the

Last fifteen years. But I’ll get over it…

Eventually….