A is for Avenue

The Avenue

White clapboard house, nightlight burning: 

elder couple stockpiling canned goods 

for impending wars, real or imagined, 

disappearing behind drawn curtains, hiding from hope

Brick bungalow, green tiled roof 

ghostly visitations, nightly apparitions 

appearing in twisted dreams of tormented child 

when Ouija board is played

Single story house, yard of dirt

filled muddied toddlers, urine soaked diapers

young mother earning wages

providing day care by television

Brick house, occupied by “Born Again” fanatics 

preaching “Good News” to all passers by... 

children know different, seeing Devilish signs

in dark marks upon the young one’s flesh 

Three story green house, full of secrets

where big dogs roam and shit throughout

yard too small, family too big, ignoring crap 

what is not seen, or discussed, is simply not there

Yellow house with stone porch

Grandpa enjoys walking around in underwear

calling out to children at play to come play games 

while Grandma’s away (shhhh, don't tell)

Red house, large back yard with climbing tree

Little old ladies, within, caring for the neighborhood

providing pink candies and respite

for those hiding from demons

Beige house, a porch swing to share

while the wise witch whispers gently

healing spells of love and kindness

for lost little girl visiting daily

Copyright 2011-all rights reserved

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Affects of Addiction

Anger lies beneath

surface of conscious thought

simmering

festering

awaiting

first strike

Apathy wraps around

compassionate spirit

binding

enslaving

tethering

authentic will

Ambivalence invades

plundering faith

clouding

confusing

concealing

spiritual truths

Ardor misappropriates

selfless love into

abusing

by misusing

destroying

life once worth living

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

A is for Anorexia

(Image courtesy of Google Images)

Looking in the mirror 

at the fat girl looking back 

mocking me 

making fun of me 

in all my beastly glory 

and I hate her 

because she is not perfect 

which is unacceptable

causing tears

and anguish

and pain 

that will not go away  

and I try to 

stifle that hurt

by withholding food 

for food is love 

and food is acceptance 

and I cannot 

and will not

accept the fact 

that those curves mean 

I am now a woman 

when I never had 

the opportunity 

to really experience 

childhood 

the way a child should 

for I was forced 

to grow up too fast 

and knew too many things 

other little girls 

should not know 

and I just want that pain 

to go away 

so maybe 

if I get smaller 

I will be rid 

of the imperfections 

that make me unlovable 

or better yet 

I will become invisible 

for I am not worthy 

to be loved 

the way a woman 

should be loved 

so I might as well 

just fade away 

to the point that 

I am able 

to be just be 

and possibly

discover 

the real me 

that has 

been hiding

in fear

for far 

too 

long.