Hit after hit
head under water (inebriated)
unable to swim,
I choked,
unsure if by God's hands or my own.
But by God I swallowed it all
then begged for more.

I sank until my feet hit the bottom
stirring the sand around my legs
then upwards.
The ocean floor obscured,
my vision obstructed.
Desperately I swiped
in vain,
and swiped again,
but still the obstruction remained.
And God laughed
and I choked
either by God's hands or mine,
by miracle or design.
Am I Him
or Him me?

Seething with questions
sung and unheard,
then yelled and ignored,
I finally lay myself to rest.
A deep sigh escaping my breast,
I surrendered to rest.

Sleep overcame me
and I dreamt of pearls,
that one day this heaviness
would give birth to pearls.
But alas I awaken
and in my night terror
I had stirred the sand again.
I do not remember.
God let me remember.

I dream of pearls
and of pearls I dream.
Yet still am I to awaken
to this dream.
The sand begins to settle
but the hand stirs again,
never lain to rest,
the obstruction remains.

Sometimes I see glimmers,
gleams and glistens
of the pearls I've only
seen in my dreams.
And by God's hands they gleam
as they always did.
But my hands became rough
from the sand that stirs
and I fear to ever touch,
a pearl,
to ensure that I never
grind her back to sand.
For God shall laugh
and I shall choke.

"Stay sleeping, little one.
Dream of pearl,"
He said.
And deliver He did
oblivion and pearls.

I know this feeling all to well
Waking up liver hurting like hell
So i reach for the bottle
The only thing I know will help

I hear the screams of profanity in your drunk voice from that night

The beating of your fist against the truck window

My own voice pleading for help

The faint sound of blood dripping onto the hardwood floor from your knuckles

And yet, all you hear is silence

It’s not the Silent Treatment

The tears in my eyes are screaming so loud

But you just can’t hear me

I thought everything was clean
Not when you’re a dry drunk
Things aren’t what they seemed
I only desire the calm, live like a monk

I thought everything was okay
Souls all around me, cleansing together
Not with a dry drunk, not today
I don’t know what’s going to happen, how do you capture

I thought I knew what was going on but I’ve fallen
Down in the well, feels like a freezing hell
Sitting there minding my own but the sadness just has to crawl in
Oh, well from what I hear I can’t dwell

I thought you were going to do better
I think a lot of things, most of them not still but racing
I write to you sometimes in my poems that become letters
My heart constantly pacing and my mind repairing itself and tracing

I thought you loved yourself and me
Dry drunk, no role model
I feel like a book falling apart by the seem
You always find yourself at the bottom of a bottle

I thought you had more to offer
And you do, you’re not always the dry drunk
God watches over you and I love her
A sense now of belonging, good luck.

Maybe one day I can tell you how I feel
Maybe one day I can tell you the truth
Maybe one day I can stand up, stare you in the eyes, and tell you how much I hate your shadow
He slurs, he stumbles, he doesn't know his own strength
Maybe I can tell you how he makes me sick, makes me sob, makes me so angry I start to shake and the lump grows and grows in my throat until I scream and tear myself apart on the inside, always the inside
Maybe one day I can tell you about him, your shadow
And then maybe one day you will remember how I hate him so and have it make a difference
I don't care how sorry you are
I do, okay, although I wish not to
But it doesn't matter, does it? It doesn't matter how much you love me, love us, it doesn't matter how much you're grateful for how we put up with him, it doesn't matter if you've tried before
I'm so tired
I'm so tired of being here
Maybe one day,
Maybe I can tell you how much of me wanting to go is his fault, your awful shadow
Maybe if you knew how much I wanted to hate you, how much I wanted to make you hurt, you'd see
But I can't
I can't
I can't stay mad
I can't hurt you
I can't hurt you or your shadow.
Maybe one day I can say the truth, and maybe one day you'll listen.

He treats me like a Queen,
Still I can’t help but wonder if he will be like you too
Funny how I am afraid of what he might become yet the most comforting place I’ve ever been is his arms.
I look to him for protection yet I fear him and what he might do,
He’s never given me a reason to doubt him but most of the men from my past life haunt my thoughts, spreading lies like wildfire
I run to him, almost as if being attracted by a magnet, it’s out of my control
I cringe whenever he takes his belt off,
I know he would never hit me yet the memory of leather striking my skin like a whip,
My mother’s hands pounding on the door and her dread-filled screams,
lingers in the back of my mind like a nightmare I cannot escape from
Now that I am older it’s easier to understand she knew what he was capable of,
She had been in my position before,
She never told me as a child because I had this glorified image of him,
He was the first man that seemed like he wanted to take care of us and love us,
I viewed him as a father and even called him Dad
He had just loved his alcohol and cigars more than his love for us
I sometimes start to think about what our future children will look like,
But I stop in my tracks because that evil voice in my head asks “what if he turns out like him”?
Will it always be like this, I fear