No Tresspassing

Last night I wept for my family, divided and separated as we are, broken and dysfunctional.

I cried for my lost childhood, spoiled by chaos and violence, fear, guilt, and shame.

flameMy body wracked and shook, folded in upon itself. I wailed mournfully like a dying creature, and I knew what sadness and grief felt like. It was a feeling I did my best to avoid. It wasn’t the first time, but I wanted it to be the last.

The alternative — anger and rage — hasn’t worked. I doggedly pursue anger, but sadness, I don’t know what to do with that except surrender.

There was no controlling the pain, no pretensions as tears, snot, and spit flowed.

Afterwards, I felt lighter.

There was still anger, but the anger was like the last bit of flame used to zone off the “No Trespassing” part of me.



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Artist | Writer | Musician

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