home is so different when you're
standing behind the wall;
i wonder of the people who
live/will live in that house now as i
stand yonder on the neighbor's
my face illuminated in a yellow
i wonder if they'd listen to my winding
stories; the nights i'd scream
back at my parents as they screamed
at each other -
the tornadoes and storms that ripped
through the back yard, leaving us untouched
but devastating others -
the christmas and easter mornings, good
times and bad, dreams and heartbreak
and so much cigarette smoke staining
the walls and my lungs.
(we were a good american family with
good american values and traditions,
i wonder if they'd listen to my twisting
roots, sitting calmly as i'd tell them
of the horrors of standing naked
in front of my mother to have her tell
me my body was wrong.
i've always been told that people
abuse in myriads of ways, but never
that the walls of my old home
would abuse along.
still struggling with what happened two and a half years ago
tonight we spoke of baby blankets, and i realized mine is forever gone (among millions of other things i claimed to own)
my baby blanket, with the elephant in the middle and "the dirty corner"
not only this, but my presence is forever gone. i wish i had left a note, but things were too hectic - i didn't know if i'd ever go "home" again. if i had the time to have written one, i would've just slipped it in the closet, a simple message reading "if you've found this, you've found me. forcopeland . deviantart . com" (back when i was for mr. copeland...)
the saddest thing is i want to replace all the hurtful things/memories with good things/memories, but that would be whitewashing over my past, the same way the mortgage company and the bank have whitewashed over the trauma that was my "home"...sometimes i don't understand why i can't do the same.
EDIT 10.19.2012 I GOT A DD? WELL HOT DOG. THANKS TO ALL. ESPECIALLY =ssolaris
I've read so many of your poems a this morning. They are so surreal.. Life is really a surreal thing though when you are trapped in your head. I found myself crying reading this one, i can relate, but not in the same ways as you. I have a feeling if we had known eachother in life we would be close. Your stories are hauntingly beautiful.
unfortunately, i do live trapped in my own head. i'm sorry that my poem made you sad, but i'm glad it moved you to feel something - that makes me feel successful as an artist. thank you so much for your feedback - keep being wonderful.
This is beautifully writen! Congrats on the DD! And I hope that things get better for you, family trouble is tough....
wow, thank you!
it's gotten better over the years, but i still struggle sometimes.
This is so moving. Congratulations on the DD! It's very well-deserved.
a very moving poem
This is excellent. I can't really find any other words to describe it, but it reached deep inside me. Wonderful work.
Amazing - congrats on the DD
a hug would be nice, haha
oh wow </3
the saddest thing is i want to replace all the hurtful things/memories with good things/memories, but that would be whitewashing over my past, the same way the mortgage company and the bank have whitewashed over the trauma that was my "home"...sometimes i don't understand why i can't do the same. this. just...this.
I may not know you that much, but I hope this cyber hug could help
just knowing that you care enough and understand enough to want to hug me means the world.
- Congrats on the DD! Have a nice day!
hey, it's okay. while time may not heal all wounds, it has certainly scabbed over these ones.