After the storm
Picking up the pieces
Emotions the storm
Words the pieces
Was it mother coming through
Or “All of my own making”
“if you can’t stand the heat
stay out of the kitchen”
Since I was born
Survival was the key
She died
Twenty years ago today
“Truth hurts” she said
“I had lots of disappointments
in my life too”
I knew I was loved
Even if have my doubts
Loved with conditions
So I stayed away
Kept my distance
“What she didn’t know
didn’t hurt her”
Hurt me
Silence worked
“say only what was nice”
Until one day I didn’t
I found a voice
Found many since
Lately more showed up
They usually take turns
I am responsible for what I say
As I discharge held in emotion
Of sixty years
Or is it more
A path of destruction
Words leaving my mouth
If I’m not kind
To those closest to me
Deemed as safe
If I have no awareness
Of other’s experience
To hear
Do I produce
Fear, shame
Anger
Sadness or
Beauty
Or is it I have no responsibility
How other’s feel
In my search
For oneness
Am I open
To Hearing
An honest
Direct
Response?
Yes
It’s what I crave
Belonging
Completeness
All those sayings
Of the past
“Looks fit to kill”
“If looks could kill”
Words can too
Just like assault rifles
Banned yesterday in Canada
Silence kills
Stifled anger
And hurt
As well.
May 2, 2020
ellensagh 