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Eme 7h
My drive down was peaceful
I was on my own
Independent
Free from obligations

Expectations
Fun but shallow activities
No one talks
Games are a distraction
Cooking and eating is a task in itself

Am I the elephant in the room?
Everyone has expectations
We take photos
I’m the photographer
No one listens
Everyone’s talking
I’m dismissed
“I’m like why am I taking your photos if you can’t listen to my directions?”
Everyone is already triggered
Some want it to be over with
Some want more photos
Some don’t like the poses
Some want candid shots

I’m mean. I’m rude. I escalated. I’m the one everyone blames. Because of my energy. Because of my reaction. I’m also triggered.
I tell them you all can’t look at yourselves
You want to blame me
You won’t even apologize
Even now my spouse pretends he’s the good guy
I’m the crazy one

I don’t even care for my spouse
He’s just there
He made excuses for why he wouldn’t come the other day
It comes down to my reaction
Never his own faults

He’s the one who told me not to come on the trip
The kids had to choose between him or me
This trip I planned with my sister
A trip he didn’t help pack or support me with
I packed the kids things, the food
All he did was get himself ready
I’m used to doing it all

I remember I’m the scapegoat
In the family
In my marriage
No one wants to be uncomfortable
Yet I’m the one who has to keep performing
I’m the one blamed for my reactions
I’m the one who has to apologize
Everyone deflects
Everyone is unaware
I’m so tired
Sick of this environment
I’m the one who has to say sorry
No one else will I’m sure
It’s all so tiring

I’m reflecting
I am hurt
But I know they are too
I apologize when I’m ready
I’m overwhelmed and didn’t feel supported
They tell me they love me and hug me
It’s good to know we still love each other
There’s no resentment
I am content
For this moment I will enjoy
That….
We’re at peace
We’re a family
Alongside my poem with trip
Some nights, she calls for me still. I listen for the luring hum of her temptress chant, her bewitching ballad, her siren song. “Let us bathe together again under the clever moon,” she sings. “Let us join hands once more and we shall stain the night with truth!” Lady Justice beckons me nearer, but I turn my eyes to the sun. Though my spirit yearns for the atonement in her touch, my heart no longer kneels to her carnal call. I thank her for her mischief and I kiss her vengeful lips for the last time. Farewell, my sweet Goddess of Divine Retribution! I close my eyes, and when I open them again, she is gone—  effervescent in the amaranthine midnight.
Adrasteia has multiple meanings in Greek mythology: Goddess of retribution and balance. Derived from the Greek word adrestos, meaning "not runaway", Adrasteia represented the inescapability of punishment. In later periods, she became associated with inevitable fate and was considered a twin-like figure to Nemesis, the goddess of vengeance.

This one is about letting nature take its course. Karma works best alone. She doesn’t need my help.
You found me
in a broken state,

heartbroken,
building up my walls,

classic fight-or-flight,
trauma calling the shots.

I gave up wanting more,
but you came at the right time—

not to save me from myself,
but to show me how to live,
let go,

and let bygones
be bygones.

I couldn’t believe
that someone

would give me
a chance,

but you never
gave up on me,

even when I was
falling through
the cracks.

You showed me what
true love should be,

and I’m never going back.
.
Will I always be this sad?  Maybe
Perhaps. But there is no reason
you cannot live alongside it,
no thing stopping you from
painting over that chasm with joy

chasm: “a deep fissure in the earth, rock, or another surface.”

Yes, maybe it will always be there, even
‘probably’
But your body is made of earth
and no one is stopping you from
tossing a rope to the bottom;
from climbing down
and planting flowers

—this place, too
            we could make beautiful

.
I gave too much, I see that now—
My time, my light, I don’t know how.
But now I choose to call it back,
And seal the holes that formed each crack.

They took my softness, stole my peace,
Demanded more, and gave no ease.
Their chaos isn’t mine to bear,
Their wounds aren’t ones I need to wear.

I’m not your friend, I’m not your crutch—
This soul is sacred, not a clutch.
From now, my light is mine to keep,
You’ll haunt no more the way I sleep.

I felt the drain, I felt the cost,
But now reclaim what I had lost.
No more will guilt or shame remain—
You’re not my burden, not my chain.

I cleanse the time that left me frayed,
The debt unpaid, the trust betrayed.
I take my power, my love, my fire—
I rise above, I climb up higher.

This wound will close, and I will shine,
This soul, this work, this light is mine.
And never will I serve once more
A weight that shakes me to my core.
I do not write to speak,
but to bury,
to press my sorrows into the earth
like seeds I never meant to grow.

Pain does not leave when you ask it to,
it lingers, it echoes, it stabs,
it carves its name into your chest,
Then you whisper it onto a page,
and call it poetry,
or prayer,
or just another night alone.

There are days I drown in the ache,
where my voice cracks under its weight,
where the silence swallows me whole,
and I let it —
I cannot stop it.

But healing is not a sudden bloom,
it is a slow, stubborn crawl,
fingers clawing through the dirt,
digging ever deeper,
pulling out the pieces of who I was
to build the person I am becoming.

And what I’ve learnt is this,
writing is not about expression,
it is about excavation,
and I am still digging
my way towards the sun.
Dom 2d
Inhale
           ….hold….

Drop
                 …exhale…

Lift

                           Inhale

…hold…

                               Drop

…exhale…
  
                                   Lift


Until the pain no longer hurts

Inhale
               …hold…
      
                          Drop

…Exhale…
                             Lift

Inhale
             …hold…

Drop
                            …Exhale…

Lift

Until a new you sculpts from the ache
And sweat fills all internal wounds
Watering the seeds of an iron resolve
Until you bloom renewed.
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