"Chains from the puddle."
The black ooze boils,
Her mind chained to the puddle,
Alcohol is poured in frequently,
A weekly basis.
A desperate plea slips through the choking grasp of alcohol,
Words are hurled at me,
To a father she wouldn't let me see until that coming of age,
16.
"Nobody loves me,"
"Nobody ever loved me."
She comes from a childhood marked with abuse,
Violence,
Dark times.
I hear her cries,
I sympathise with her pain internally,
But alcohols grip clouds her mind.
Nothing goes into her ears,
A brick wall covered in grime.
She speaks of hospitals,
Of doors wide,
She cant make sense,
Cant find her way.
Leaves reasons scattered,
Compassion confined,
Advice denied.
A mournful wail,
A desperate sigh,
Her voice does cry.
Her words apologetic to me,
Though they lack meaning.
Why apologise when you refuse to fix it?
Your fix of alcohol,
Stop it..
But in her anguish,
She sees no other way.
They say that time can heal all wounds,
Though she stands an ultimatum,
The lie behind a fact.
Apologies cannot heal wounds that time can seal.
I wait until actions mark the words she speaks,
Apologies alone are but whispers to me.
Actions speak louder than words,
I'd feel more slicing my wrist than affection from her.
The idea seems terrible,
Yet freeing.
I wonder how long I can keep up with this.
The past 5 years,
The damage stacks up like a wall.
How long will I last,
Will I resort to the measures of the blades edge?
I hope not,
Though it isn't a far-fetched impossibility.
Closer to my neck than I'd like to admit..
I stand a wounded soul,
Charged by a spark of resilience,
Chasing a promising future.
Faint yet clear.
The heart's tender embrace lies the strength of ignorance,
For it is bliss.
To acknowledge the scars,
The pain within,
To myself I stammer,
To others I am sunshine and rainbows.