Who Am I

Who Am I?

I am a victim of rage

Neglected, bruised and broken
The sour smell of fear induced sweat
The tightness in my chest
The rolling of my stomach
The pungent smell of urine permeating the room

I am a survivor of abuse
Her boyfriend’s touch hurts
My small body stretches
Probing fingers, rough hands, grabbing…
Piercing pain, red hot

This is my worth

A lesson well taught
This is what men want, all I am good for
A belief, a lie I would let define me

I am the result of promiscuity

She does no more than bend over and lift her skirt
An ingrained belief she couldn’t say no
This is her worth
A lesson my mother also learned well

A volunteer of self-loathing, self-pity, self-obsession

Blessed numbness in the bottom of a bottle
Emotional regulation in a pill
A drug addict dominated by self-centered fear

My bottom had a trap door

Disillusion, degradation and near death
A criminal without a record
Champion of the untouchables

I am a woman but far from a lady

A Buddhist with a belief in God
A practicing Buddhist, not the bookstore variety
A student of life, forever teachable
Forever lost and trying to find myself
This is who I am

He Dominates Me

He Dominates Me

He growls, pulling me closer

Our disagreement far from over
Oversized, callused hands on my skin
He wants me to submit
Wants my body and soul

I feel the tingle of his breath on my neck

He pushes me onto the bed
School books pushed off the bed
He never wanted me to return to school
My family’s call goes to voicemail

The flicker of the candle flames

Kissing my skin
The flick of his tongue on my slick skin
His hardness demanding submission

A fistful of my hair forces my gaze

On the intensity in his eyes
Lust and power written on his face
Hard, thick thighs pinning me down
He slowly explores my trembling body
Forcing a response

I yield to him

My second-hand negligee
Ripped, torn, discarded
He enters me with a quick thrust
Finding his rhythm
My hips rise to meet his
His seed erupts
Once again, my needs as significant
                As a geyser in an ocean

The Breaking Point

The Breaking Point

His hand across her face with a sharp crack

            Pale, bleeding and resigned.

He kicks her in the ribs and she cries out
     The mental anguish far worse that the bruise

                  The desperation of an addict using
               Against her will

                   Dope sick without it, dying with it

     Foxhole prayers and gas station rendezvous

Diesel fuel and body fluids
      Shame and degradation

                             He is a wooly mammoth lying on top of her

       The desire to lay her head on the pillow of hair on his chest
      Instead she feels thick, doughy fingers pawing at her
     There is no mistaken this for love
      A service provided for payment of some sort

One more fix.

Chase the high, immortality
     Feelings of power and inferiority
     Emaciated, dirty needles, blistered lips
     The smell of peppermint

                            Her hair sticks up like little yellow maggots

Continual fear and constant tears
      Life in the alley
      Smells like the dumpster
      Behind Mr. Jessup’s Butcher Shop
      On a sunny, July afternoon

                                 Desperation pulses like sexual energy in the air

        The halo of gnats dance around her head
      The sound of feral children close by


       The smell of dust, wet cardboard
      The crinkle of cellophane and terse, barked orders
      The warehouse workers unaware
      Slow death beyond their walls
      The thick fence between the church and the alley
      Covered in grime and moss
      Won't one person reach out and save her?

The Middle Way

                                                                    The Middle Way

I contemplate my life and all I've done

Questioning the decisions from my past

Will I observe the truth or turn and run

Praying for the courage to stand steadfast

All my moments have brought me to this place

Where I question now who I really am

Condemned by my mistakes or freed by grace

Negative force or part of love's true plan

But most is not where these answers are found

Truth manifest in who I am today

And with this I put my feet to the ground

My spirit free to walk the Middle Way

And in seeking the path I have to say

“The way is not to love, love is the way.”

A Buddhist Death

A Buddhist Death

“When I am dead, my dearest”

I shall need your help to ease my journey

My body you may not touch for three days

Please let them not move me

Do not cry or show strong emotion near my body

Keep vigil and chant so that my good energy may be released

For 49 days you will do rituals and prayers

By this the universe will be pleased.

During First Bardo I will not welcome the

Radiance of the Clean Light

During Second Bardo I will see my life in one night

It is during Third Bardo I will seek another birth

May that life be better than the first!

Detachment vs. Apathy

     I have strived for Apathy for most of my life. The definition of Apathy is lack of interest or concern. I think of apathy as a general sense of lack of feeling. In recovery, what I am learning is that Apathy is dangerous to the recovering addict. The healthy version or apathy is detachment. Detachment is the state of being objective or aloof. You see, I have a disease that affects my perception of things and I am unable to see things objectively. I don't necessarily have to be unfeeling, but instead, must be objective in my evaluation of people and situations in my life.

     What is the purpose of detachment or apathy? The purpose is to acheive a lack of pain. If I can hold on to things loosely and practice nonattachment, I can move with life instead of holding on so tightly that I am unyielding.

   There is no area that causes as much pain as relationships. Whether it be with children, a significant other or family, I tend to hold on so tightly that the people in my life feel sufficated.

Relationships

    God puts people in my life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. It is not up to me to question why someone has been placed in my life or how long they will be here. It is my job to enjoy it and build a friendship that will last for life and it is up to me to create memories and make the most of his being in my life.