Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Where I've Been

In the last 2 years or so I haven't written much to post. Scribbles, mostly, in half a dozen composition notebooks, stuffed with scribbles on the backs of envelopes and shelved.

I've always written, I remember writing stories in the third grade, poetry in the 4th. Didn't matter if it was good or not, it let me say my piece and stay sane, stay alive. When I was old enough, I wrote love poems for my lovers and break up poems when it was over. I learned to edit, to keep the poem relevant years after it was written and to never ever use a proper name.

So the last few years. Mostly heartbreak and mourning has come out. When Sandy died in 2011, we were weeks away from moving in together. The horrendous shock of her death by accident, and then the treatment by her family pretty much erased a year or so there. I did keep the scribbles, managed to form them into a non fiction piece that was published and released in an anthology of local poets and writers. Once again I was writing to preserve my sanity, and there is an entire chapbook length pile of poems for her, called Vodka and Rose Petals. It doesn't matter to me if I ever publish it, and the grief is still so raw I'd be a difficult author to edit. I submit writing only to those editors I trust to reject me with kindness if they reject me at all.

The whole time I was dragging a giant elephant around with me wherever I went. And really for years before that. The giant elephant was an abusive relationship with a man who had started as a dear friend, became a lover, and then moved it.

Hindsight is 20/20. But domestic violence creeps in as slowly as molasses in winter. Stealth is it's primary means of insertion. All his friends knew of his domestic violence arrests. All of us knew he got off because his wife was "crazy." He was everyone's reliable friend. I keep saying I should have known, I should have not let him back after the first time, I should've, could've, would've. But I didn't. I loved him and somehow held onto the belief he would stop.

He did not. Which resulted in his removal from my home by court order, a restraining order, a violation that lead to a year of court appearances and one and a half years after his arrest, his release from probation. It only took 2 months for the stalking to start, and now I'm finding holes in the blocks I set against him and closing them one at a time, screen shotting every email, every social media follow before I block it, every bit of evidence of his continued obsession with me. Into the folder with all the other evidence.

The really telling part I only noticed after he was removed. I never wrote him love poems. I never even wrote him a break up poem. Everything I wrote was steeped in fear. Even the notes I kept, dated, radiate fear.

I am not publishing his name YET, or the case numbers. Maybe I'm stupid but I do keep hoping he will go away and leave me alone. Which in reality, will not happen and it will be me who gets to move away, once again, and change phones and change friends and live in hiding for the rest of my life. The difference is now, I understand the judicial system, which is stacked against the victim.

So I'll try to write again, I will stay in hiding, I will keep the brick dust on my doorways, and the mirrors facing the windows and dimming spell in place.

Oh, and the troll I thought I had, it's him in an alt.


A Spell of Remembrance

The veil of alcohol is lifted, and you will remember.
You will remember.
You will remember how much I loved you.
You will remember how I took care of you.
You will remember your tantrums.
You will remember your hours long tirades.
You will remember kicking my dog so hard she limped for days.
You will remember begging my forgiveness.
You will remember me forgiving you over and over.
You will remember how much I loved you.
You will remember starting the cycle all over again.
You will remember not letting me sleep.
You will remember your threats.
You will remember mentally torturing me.
You will remember the purposeful pain you inflicted on me.
You will remember using that which would hurt me most.
You will remember pinning me to the floor and beating me with your elbow.
You will remember the fear on my face.
You will remember the voicemails when I ran.
You will remember the emails from your delusions.
You will remember it all.

It will haunt you.
It will haunt your dreams.
It will haunt your waking.
It will follow you, whispering every detail
you tried to erase.

You will remember.
You will not be able to lie anymore,
to yourself or anyone else.
You will admit you did it all.
You will be wracked with guilt.
You will be wracked with shame.
You will be haunted by your words and actions.
You will be haunted by loss.

You will know you caused me unhealable
harm, scars upon my soul.
You will remember every detail.
It will not leave you.
It will not let you rest.

A elfyntodd dwyr sinddyn duw
cerrig yr fferlluric nwyn
os syriaeth ech saffaer tu
fewr echlyn mor, necrombor llun

So mote it be.