"I wonder if guardian angels cry when they see it all play out; and as they stand with their hands tied, do they cry out loud?"*

I often find myself lamenting, *"Why? Why did this have to happen? Why did nobody notice? Why didn't anybody save me? How could You (God) give this to me?" I have been told that those are words of a victim and not a survivor, but I can't help but feel and think them. I especially direct them toward a higher power... I was always told that I must have been dreaming, how dare I say such things, I deserved it, I did something wrong, I was stupid enough to.... Some messages hanging around my house growing up said "Men don't buy appliances, they marry them." Women (and children) shouldn't speak unless spoken to, I should RESPECT my elders (aka abusers), better to be silent and appear a fool than to speak and remove all doubt, and here's the best one...it was placed on my mirror "You're looking at the problem". And people wonder why I act the way I do. The people who I grew up with, my "family",  those who are supposed to nurture, protect, and teach all of the lessons of life were the ones hurting me-and (inadvertently) teaching me that it's okay for other people to do the same... And I'm the one lying, I'm the one making up stories and dreaming. Only I have learned that those things are not normal...that most children do not grow up like I did. But these things fuel my secrecy. Apparently nobody knew. It makes me sick. why.... ugh...I feel sick just thinking about it. It's paralyzing. It's exhausting.

I wonder if it's a coincidence that every time I look at him, he's looking back at me. A slight awkwardness, but we never address it. So when he held my hand today I wondered if he could read my mind all those times. I wondered if he watches me walk away just as I watch him ,waiting til his eyes meet mine. He matches my tone that screams "pay attention to me" with a tone that affirms he's been watching me the whole time. That's how his eyes always meet mine.

I fell in love with music
when I fell in love with women.
Cassettes will weep upon demand;
homing melodies for the neighbour
who lives across the green.

There's no sense to *** or violence,
and yet I'll teethe it all the same.
I'll give out tepid love, flashes of blood,
and a weekend of cemetery wander,
if it means I'll get a modicum of sleep.

Zopiclone, Citalopram, and long walks
will do a lot to elevate a mind.
You see a painted blue
and an ocean view; yet you've lost
that old dignitary smile.

I am told to separate my wisdom,
to quote history as if time were a fact.
There's no love in the decimated forest,
the Earth now calloused and fickle,
to shake off the parasite of man.

I fell in love with cigarettes
when I divorced with yesterday's papers.
I have no wars left to fight,
and no money more to make,
now all that's left to ask is:
where do I belong?

Everytime he hit my mother I swear my skin would be bruised for days.