I remember a time when he would come home.

And i remember that, you must stand at the door and welcome him home like you are happy, don't forget to be happy.
Tea was always ready and the house would be clean and tidy because it should be, you wanted it to be, and woe betide you if it wasn't.
And then, when tea was finished, he wanted his beer and the tv on
and now you mustn't talk because you shouldn't.
So the kitchen was tidied and everything was just so..
you mustn't forget to make it just so.
But you know the time is coming where the beer is all gone and the match would be lost and the anger would flare.
That's when you want to become invisible but you can't
because he needs to punch something and well..
you're as good as any door.
So after the room was cleaned up and the broken glasses and lip was put away, it was time for bed..
And you can't pretend to be asleep because that doesn't count
as a no.

Thankfully there was a little glow in the dark star on the ceiling you could look up at and wish upon it that you weren't in this room, in this bed right now. I think the people who lived there before left it behind. I knew that if i moved i would take it with me.

And the need to run was immense. But there was no where to go and nobody knew and, after all, it was the way of things, don't complain.. it could be worse.. remember that.. it could be worse.. he said.

I often dreamed of a tiny little bed all of my own with fairy lights and my own place to put my books, but that would have to wait as now is not the time to think of such a silly notion. Stupid ***** that you are.

And so each and every night, i painted the roses red.. so i didn't loose my head.

And running wasn't really an option because, contrary to popular opinion, that is harder than you think.. after all... this was normal and... this is just what happens and... this is just one of those things and... **** it up buttercup, now clean the house again you stupid ****.

And in the gaslighting, which burned very bright, you would have enough of a glow to paint the roses red.
Perfectly red, everyday they would have to be red.

And life carried on for years like this and my friend, the little glow in the dark star and i were the only ones who knew what 'behind closed doors' really meant.

Inevitably children were born into this world of mine, and you can't say no to no contraception, because the need to see his fertility bloom was the most important thing in the world.
Most important.

But i was indeed blessed with more than an armful of joy.

And so we all painted the roses red and in time, we all wondered, which one of us would loose our head.

We moved house and the years passed as they normally do with various reasons to run and threats that made us stay.
But you never run..  because now he might **** you all,
and not just you.
If it was just you, you wouldn't have minded so much...

So we moved house and the little glow in the dark star came along too. It was placed near the light fitting over the bed and i put my finger to my lips and said 'shhh' as i stuck it to the ceiling.
But we knew.

And so, for a few more years you carry the weight of the world, the little secret, and a heart full of love, and begin painting the roses red with your children.
And now you definitely can't leave and you can't run because they might loose their heads and now, now you might have to watch.. while you get to keep yours.

And then a tide turned, well, four tides turned, and damage was being done that my love could not repair.
And that is when i had to be brave and i had to do what i should have done many years before.
I was conditioned to suffer along side and this was normal.
Not that any of that is an excuse.
And although i knew it wasn't right, i knew it was normal.. for me.

A contradiction if ever there was.

But my love for my children will always be far greater, greater than my love for any one else could ever be. Even if it was their flesh and blood.
And him saying we couldn't leave now did not count as a no.
But we didn't leave.
We made him pack his things and go. We had found safety in numbers, we all stood and were counted, we exposed only what secrets needed to be told.
The rest we keep for ourselves.
He never said sorry and he left. And never came back.

So we kept some of the red paint and we added orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. And we painted all of our roses any **** colour we wanted to. Including ourselves.

And I took down the little glow in the dark star, it had seen far too much and probably needed therapy :o)  

And we will live happily forever after.

.

Left alone, the abyss of failure
closes in,
for days it seems like weeks,
though months are now reduced to counted minutes

Coffin’d stances form the stoic barricade
which surrounds my hope
in picket lines of untrained defectors

I claw at its lid,
thrashing mightily to my sides
as collections of miseries
flood this chamber of my coerced sleep

“I am here!” I shout,
hearing my words
echo in distance dance halls
two stepping on my memory,
spitting above where I lie

Here - a relevant term
as columns of disbelief carve themselves
from my mind.

Forgotten, left for dead,
erased from the blackboard
by the firm swishing hand of fate…
reduced to dust (I don’t feel like dust)

Blisters climb my arms in search of answers,
none can be found here,
where ever the hell here is… yet, I am here

My brain circles the skyline in desperation,
the gutters below cry, trash strewn as if it were me
sleeping off my drunk
in that Frigidaire box

“I am me!” I cry to the empty corridors of someone else’s life
One I’d rather be
Or one who would rather not?

…….

Someday my file may lie open,
atop a desk,
a partitioned sanctuary of hidden ethics,
beneath the crumpled Cheeto’s bag,
now layered with stale orange crumbs

maybe someone will see

maybe someone will wonder

or maybe still forgotten

My head doesn't fit my shoulders today
feels like it belongs to someone else
someone who's asleep.. or dead
because this one is full of cotton wool and candy floss
and doesn't work properly
maybe it's the brain inside
there must be lots of room in there
because it's all over the place
thoughts here, thinking there,
mind wandering every ****** where
i can't grasp a single thought and see what it is
not one of them will stay still long enough
for me to hold it to the light and say
"ah yes... i should be doing " ...**** i forget
everything just slips through the cracks and nothing holds fast
i've lost brain cells somewhere i'm sure of it ..
you know.. the ones that make the brain work properly
probably in my bed
or has slipped down behind the nightstand
all i can think of is how much i can't think straight
i know i am always a little bit 'Phoebe'
always a little quirky.. odd maybe
i can't help that
and i don't always think in a straight line anyway
but i need my own head today
i have a very busy day ahead .. i think
probably..
but my head is full of cotton wool and candy floss
and my mind..
it's just not there.

.

*What ever happened to fairy tale endings
When did the sun bring the cold winter chill
Why are kind gesturers an act of  pretending
How did our heartbeats become ever still

Where is the joy that we found ourselves sharing
Happiness falling on much darker days
Meadows of flowers now weeds never caring
Blue skies are hidden behind sorrowed haze

Dreams slowly scattered on desolate oceans
Washed up on shore as the sandcastles die
Tossed overboard with the weakest emotions
Salt coated tears the horizon does cry

Once perfect mornings now afternoon weary
Gazing on edges cut sharp by the storm
Forecasts are sent in a poem that’s dreary
Standing afraid as the thunderclouds form

Hiding our eyes behind last April’s fashion
No cotton fabric for sale on the rack
Finding that drab is our lone source of passion
Marked down for clearance way out in the back

When did we give up on promises pending
Taking a place after push comes to shove
What ever happened to fairy tale endings
What ever happened to forever love