I never said I never sinned
it's just I've been where you've been
around the bend
more than a few times
more than a few

don't go to the darkside on me
whatever you do
one by one
we'll be left
the only two

don't die untried
and way too young
after a series of trials
you'll find you're far from done

now alone facing away from door
make it quick in order to avoid capture
making this such a dramatic ending to
before I even had a chance to ever reach you

dignified pose
silence follows
I don't know what I never said
you're dirty looks are so ritualistic
fall backwards
this is not the time for evening wine
an empty bench like you've never seen a sunrise.

i've got nothing real to say right now,
so just be cool
while I fade
off into the distance.

 4d mercy
Petal 

You know who you are
Bruised Peaches
Those hit, hidden
Shamed
Belittled and bitten
By the very people we loved most
Mocked
For staying with the bearers of our
Bruises
We warrior spouses
Some of the peaches are lucky
we rolled from the pain baskets
Others have to stay for seedlings
This particular peach
After years of bruises
Nearly got squished between the fingers
of a bruise bearer
And I'm bitter mush
But I'm still whole
And all the while
He whispered,
I love you, I love you little peach
He gave me a seedling
She grew
and with her
My knowledge grew
It took the kingsmens axe
To cut me from that dead tree
But thank God
This peach, is free
~A

It's the hardest thing in the world to leave an abusive relationship. We're often made to believe it's our own fault. Even after one leaves, the lawyers, judges, counselors even, make you feel "less than".
I rarely write of my awful marriage. Even today I'm ashamed. And I know that it wasn't anything I did but that fact escapes me sometimes. My love to you all. Especially the Peaches.
 5d mercy
Ana Papaya 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We didn't have much in the way of beautiful, tranquil, escapes.
Not when you grow up an inner city child.

We had music drifting out onto the streets from the billiards on the Danforth, and cars honking at pretty girls walking by.

The slap of hockey sticks on Merrill Ave. with the occasional shout of "Car!" to let old Mr. Simpson drive through, real slow,  waving his hand like a zamboni driver clearing the ice.

If I walked a bit further down memory lane I'd probably see our little gang of hoodlums playing tough with the kids from the other side of the tracks.

Shouting threats, without any real substance, nor any real swear words, because we knew we'd be hung up on the clothesline by our earlobes if we got caught cursing.

I remember bugging the heck out of Johnny S. before he knew what a big crush I had on him.

We didn't have much in the way of beautiful, tranquil, escapes.
Not when you grow up an inner city child.

But we had our little ravine at the end of West Lynne.
That was our little escape.  Johnny and I would sneak off down there, pretending we were runaways or hobos living in the woods.

We would catch salamanders and toads, keeping them as pets, in shoes boxes lined with grass, leaves and twigs.

We built a little fort from old plyboard and cardboard boxes.  
Cut out windows, and planted a little flower garden around it to make it look more like a home.

Johnny and I would sit sipping Dr.Peppers, planning where we'd go, what we'd do.

Dreaming.  
Dreaming about making it "Big Time" one day.  

The Ravine.
This was our little piece of paradise.

It was under this canopy of tall Maples and Pines, listening to the chirping of common grackles and blue jays, as rays of sunshine pierced through the cracks between trees and leaves,
that he told me he'd take care of me.  When he was older.

He couldn't do it right now, but one day, he would take me away from this 'hood.

I turned 12 in June, near the end of the school year.  It was the year my parents told me we'd be moving away at the end of the summer.

A new home, bigger, not a semi-detached house with loud neighbours and a tiny little square yard.

A new school with new friends.

Johnny and I spent our last weekend together in our little fort, planning where we'd go, what we'd do.

He'd come get me one day, after he finished school.  Maybe get a job at the factory where his dad worked.

Then he kissed me.  

Just a simple innocent kiss, but when his lips touched mine and
lingered a little, time stood still... and I swear that the ground shook under my feet from the beating of my heart.

He gave me a ring pop and I laughed.  
Then he kissed me again, and I cried, for a long time.

We didn't have much in the way of beautiful, tranquil, escapes.
Not when you grow up an inner city child.
But we had this special place.

I went back to our ravine years later and wandered along the path to our special place.  Remembering each adventure, the trees we used to climb, the pet salamanders and toads.

I could hear our voices and the sound of our laughter.
And I remembered... our fort.  And my first kiss.

'the Danforth' refers to Danforth Avenue in Toronto and a 'ring pop' is a plastic ring with a diamond shaped candy on top

what do you want, what can I do?
I can't run the gauntlet again
I've done the walk for you
you've got your confession shot
why can't we talk like we use to?
have I been blacklisted?
is this simply a matter that will fade in time?

it's like that you just don't believe in the Rebellion
and you want to leave me out here in the Badlands

this is just the start of secrets and never ending sessions
of regret
so show me the way to bitter exile
just like the day we met
look in your eyes, i am vanishing with all this confusion
and your youthful illusions

it's like that you just don't believe in the Rebellion
and you want to leave me out here in the Badlands

and when you lose that's when you go tearing around
like your heart was burnt and cut out
you think they should display my head in London Town
as a warning
until morning
into the afternoon
above the city skylight like the moon

 6d mercy
Ana Papaya 

~

when you've been wandering through life
on your own for so long
you forget what it's like
to hold love in your arms
when i found you it felt right
but i knew it was wrong
so i did what i do
brave as a soldier
at war with my heart
i ran


~

with a pitchfork in my side
you can't say I never tried
i'm beat and broken

I dragged my feat along
your roadside for too long
beat and broken

this could be a landmark day
the one I needed and I prayed
to find a way to let you know
before they deal the fatal blow

the burn of turpentine
in my veins all of the time
I lost control
as times have gotten hard
in a haunted shipyard
I call my soul

don't wanna go to the field today
'cause I'm not going out that way
I've been waiting for your return

the cold criminal past
catches up to you so fast
(never free)
so don't you even bother with me
you might as well just call a priest

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