I wrote this poem a long time ago. After my first marriage was indefinitely broken. Just thought I would share some thoughts:
When I married you it was love. It was like it was sent from above.
Little did I know what you had in mind, I did not know what was about to unwind.
The love I felt for you was so strong, OH MY GOD what did I do wrong?
You hit me, you choked me. WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?
You looked into my eyes and watched me beg for my life, don't you remember that I AM YOUR WIFE?
You broke my spirit, you broke my soul. When we got married, was that your goal?
I was forced to live a life of sunglasses and long-sleeved shirts, I was too embarrassed to let the world see my hurts.
The scars you left are permanent in my heart, luckily my body has begun to start.
People say "Why don't you leave?" I can't because my mind you deceive.
You promised me lies and hopes of a new, but in all my dreams they never come true.
I hear all the time, "Didn't you know?" Well wouldn't it be easier to go?
But they don't know what I fear, is you beating me harder without even a tear.
I look at my reflection, so tattered and bruised, I think to myself "how did you get so used?".
And I stay and I stay to try and stick it out, with false expectations that you'll realize what love is all about.
But deep in my heart my worst fear, is the look on your face when our son is near.
I look at him in hopes you will see, the wonderful person he will turn out to be.
I pray every night that he will be safe, that God will somehow get us out of this place.
I thank God that he gives me the strength to make it through, so I can take the blow and our son can't see you.
Because one day I know he will make you mad, and I pray that I'm there so he won't get it bad.
Please leave him alone! It's me that you seek, to destroy my spirit and make me feel weak.
I call the police and what do they do? They laugh and tell me not to be afraid of you.
You got them all fooled with your smooth talking ways, but I know that you'll get caught one of these days.
The bruises I have are all over me, you hit me in places that no one can see.
Everyone thinks that our marriage is true, but they don't know the real psychotic you.
So I become numb and your blows don't hurt, because you've killed my spirit by treating me like dirt.
So the thrill is gone and I no longer cry, but I know you and damn it you'll try.
So what can you do to hurt me some more, but move on to my son and kill me at my core.
This precious baby who thinks you're the best, you go for him and my strength you test.
But what you don't know is you made the mistake, my son is my life and no more will I take.
Now its my turn to hurt you in every way I can, now do you feel like a real man?
I will have the last word and this woman you'll regret, will put you in the ground and ruin you yet.
You made the mistake when hurting my son, because now this game I have won.
So where did it get you, this life that we lead? Not where you thought because you're the one dead.
It's over for you never again do you see? Will you ever EVER put your hands on me.
I am finally free and my life without you? Is better than imagined and I'm happy too!
Now sunglasses I wear to shield my eyes, from nothing but the sun not the bruises I despised.
Free as a bird to live how I choose, and never to think of our "I do's".
You broke our vows in all possible ways, and I notice it bothers me less and less these days.
So goodbye, I no longer belong to you. Maybe next time you'll think before it's me you screw.
Strong words... We've come a long way since then...
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Hello my name is: The bag lady
There are sometimes in our lives as moms when we stop to take it all in. Just for a second. Any longer than that would certainly cause nothing short of a natural disaster.
Today I experienced this 3 seconds of what I thought was bliss until I realized that I was being watched. Not in a hot mom kinda way, not by a good looking man, no but by other mothers, career moms and their children. Let me paint the picture that they are watching. Here is me, in my standard house wife uniform which today is a T-shirt and shorts. I did not get to dry my hair so it is in two braids behind my ears. Anyway, I roll up in the mom mobile and I proceed to pull my children out of the car. My son is singing, emphasizing every loud part or this tune that only he knows and my daughter is saying "Clean up, have to wash your hair". I am not certain where this saying is coming from but we have to get the boy in the classroom before first bell.
I have both children in hand and I also have about 4 bags on my person. Hanging off of me like clothes that are 5 sizes too big. Picture if you will, my 2 kids singing, me in the middle, a back pack hanging off my left shoulder, my purse hanging off the right shoulder, and lunchbox gripped by 3 fingers between me and my son and a bag of diapers and wipes, which I am barely holding on to with my poor pinkie. I must look like some kind of juggler recently fired by the circus. I now realize that these other women, who are only juggling their Latte must be thinking "that poor woman, she just doesn't have it together". Oh Contraire! This is well put together, I may be sweating and my hair may be frizzed out but my kid is gonna have a good day today! But all I do is take a big vacation right?
It is an especially splendid day when I have only one bag. I feel like I am forgetting something. Although my purse is the size of a small suitcase, it is still pleasant to me when only its 15 pounds is all I have to carry.
My car is a mobile home on a much smaller scale. I have all the supplies needed to survive a puke attack, a nasty handle on a Walmart cart and a "mom I spilled milk in my car seat". Yes, being a mom is much like being MacGyver. Because at any given time you may have to build a city out of a bar of soap and a pocket knife.
And this job I gladly do, and willingly do for no monetary value what-so-ever. I am underpaid and severely over worked. I don't know the meaning of 15 minute break. All I know is that it is my sole responsibility to grow respectful human beings. I am the holder of the future and I wouldn't trade a minute of it!
Today I experienced this 3 seconds of what I thought was bliss until I realized that I was being watched. Not in a hot mom kinda way, not by a good looking man, no but by other mothers, career moms and their children. Let me paint the picture that they are watching. Here is me, in my standard house wife uniform which today is a T-shirt and shorts. I did not get to dry my hair so it is in two braids behind my ears. Anyway, I roll up in the mom mobile and I proceed to pull my children out of the car. My son is singing, emphasizing every loud part or this tune that only he knows and my daughter is saying "Clean up, have to wash your hair". I am not certain where this saying is coming from but we have to get the boy in the classroom before first bell.
I have both children in hand and I also have about 4 bags on my person. Hanging off of me like clothes that are 5 sizes too big. Picture if you will, my 2 kids singing, me in the middle, a back pack hanging off my left shoulder, my purse hanging off the right shoulder, and lunchbox gripped by 3 fingers between me and my son and a bag of diapers and wipes, which I am barely holding on to with my poor pinkie. I must look like some kind of juggler recently fired by the circus. I now realize that these other women, who are only juggling their Latte must be thinking "that poor woman, she just doesn't have it together". Oh Contraire! This is well put together, I may be sweating and my hair may be frizzed out but my kid is gonna have a good day today! But all I do is take a big vacation right?
It is an especially splendid day when I have only one bag. I feel like I am forgetting something. Although my purse is the size of a small suitcase, it is still pleasant to me when only its 15 pounds is all I have to carry.
My car is a mobile home on a much smaller scale. I have all the supplies needed to survive a puke attack, a nasty handle on a Walmart cart and a "mom I spilled milk in my car seat". Yes, being a mom is much like being MacGyver. Because at any given time you may have to build a city out of a bar of soap and a pocket knife.
And this job I gladly do, and willingly do for no monetary value what-so-ever. I am underpaid and severely over worked. I don't know the meaning of 15 minute break. All I know is that it is my sole responsibility to grow respectful human beings. I am the holder of the future and I wouldn't trade a minute of it!
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