Every 9 seconds an American woman is assaulted or beaten.
How did I survive?
Betrayed by more than just one -
In a time when it was the victim's fault.
Emotional scars that surface
to ensure I never bond or trust.
I love that entertainers want to reveal this ***** secret.
I don't want anyone to have my panic attacks
that triggers asthma attacks
alone with my memories
(desperately searching for my inhaler)
Only me to comfort me
and remind myself
I am safe now.

I tossed out all the baggage of
guilt
regret
sorrow
despair
loneliness

At the doorstep I am leaving
gloom
misery
anguish
desolation
hopelessness

My fear was the hole my constant companions would leave.
However, now I find I have room...
to dance silly with my grandchildren
to enjoy a movie with my sons
To smile on my way to work
To sing Pop songs at the
top of my lungs. I don't
wake up crying
any longer
I don't
define
myself in you... and I never did!
You are gone.... now I have room.

The perfect man for me
may look very plain to you...
However I see him as
tall, handsome, and so very intelligent.
He understands my weirdness-
how I find humor in things that really aren't so funny.
We will talk ... just talk - for hours.
He shares my intellectual curiosity -
such as wanting a working understanding of string theory.
He is strong and forceful -
not to be confused with being a bully.
He picks his battles, and understands when I pick mine.
When I over-react
he understands that is coming from a place of insecurity.
He respects that my experiences have reinforced that insecurity.
He handles it -
usually by saying "What the **** is the matter with you?"
That, for me - not necessarily any other woman,
is a conversation opener.
I know he really wants to know what is going on within me.
I know he cares enough to listen
to really hear
my pain.
He will dance,
maybe not so well but willing to give it his all.
He can laugh at the fact that he doesn't
dance so very well -  
that makes me so proud to be
the one whose feet he is stepping on.
He will love the beach, long walks, marathon NetFlicks
and my dogs, all three.
He will not be threatened by the love I have
for my sons.
He will respect that when it comes to my children-
I am a lioness.
I will protect them at all costs
while being 100% loyal to him.
He will listen to my opinion.
He will be strong enough to challenge my opinions-
He will tell me when I am wrong
and appreciate when I do the same for him.
Every night he will hold me until I fall asleep
the rhythmic breathing while he sleeps
fills me with a sense of belonging,
He will make me feel safe enough to love
and feel secure enough
to be loved.
Importantly - I will cherish
every moment with him-
and appreciate that
I am lucky enough to be
the one he loves.

There are not many souls as beautiful or broken.
Tormented by depression no one completely understands,
you fight through the fog of every day.
I wish you could see what I see.
You always remembered my birthday-
even though you were self medicated with beer.
You took me to dances
and always gave me the most beautiful corsages -
each and every time.
I dried all the flowers you gave me
and kept them through the divorce and my remarriage.
(now our son sends me flowers
that I dry and keep with yours-
he truly is the better part of you)
I also remember the fights -
only now realizing you weren't fighting with me,
you were fighting your demons.
I think I will cling to the good.
Our son is one of the most amazing men on the planet.
You predicted he would be an athlete -
when he took his first steps.
I only wish your illness would have released
its grip long enough for you to make his games.
High school, college, two years pro ball
Your illness only released its grip once.
One game out of hundreds.
Your excitement to see fans
wearing the name you gave him with his number.
If only you could experience joy-
without the deadly combination
of alcohol and meds.

Those with advice to give
have the luxury of
visiting the looking glass.
They can fall down the rabbit hole
8 hours a day....
Often perplexed
by the weird and the strange
the marginalized people
who make wonderland
their home.
Those - through no fault of their own
forced to live
on the fringe of society,
with the harshness of:
poverty - homelessness
discrimination of
gender
race
age
****** orientation...
What appears to the main stream
as wonderland,
A life the blind call a choice
is the cruel and heartless world
many call home.
Where the path of least resistance
offers options like
drug dealer
gang banger
prostitution
****
death...
Drugs and weapons are easy
education is a pipe dream
hunger and thirst
a constant companion.
To us
this is the norm.
And if
by the grace of God
(or whatever you consider holy)
one manages to escape
the quagmire...
to live- no matter how briefly
in Alice's side,
One can fully learn to
appreciate the meaning of
Ignorance is bliss...
Remember!
The Hatter doesn't know he's mad-
that's a label
you've imposed
and only has meaning
on your side
of the looking glass...

Long have I
toiled for that space
of nothingness.
I have carefully crafted
walls -  insurmountable
foundations
solid strong and deep.
So that no one
penetrates -
and my soul
fragile and weak
beaten broken and frayed
is protected
from you
and
in the sanctity
of my quiet world
becomes
numb....

A high IQ
doesn't protect a soft heart.
Makes me think perhaps
I'm soft in the head!
How could I not see -
you were never about me.
You troll the net
like a cyber shark
on a constant hunt
for the older, lonely, forgotten type.
The ones that have forgotten the warmth
of strong arms.
So starved for a kind word,
attention, a touch.
To take advantage of
the walking wounded.
And you don't know how much pain
you leave in your wake.
You have no idea
you ...
have...
no...
clue.
The pain left in the wake of your lust,
Or the extent of your inhumanity!

If a butterfly
can flap its wings in Brazil
setting off a chain of events
leading to a storm in North Dakota...
How could I
resist the force of your
boyish grin and
hazel eyes
while
standing face to face,
nose to nose
with you?