McKenzie Free

One woman's quest for greater understanding through freedom of self expression.

Archive for the tag “broken heart”

61

There is a gaping hole inside of me

Which nightly I try to fill up

With mounds and mounds of food

And sometimes sex with inappropriate men who like fat girls

It is a gaping hole which by now is the size of a basketball

A small hole that was ripped larger and larger by

my alcoholic father and crazy brother

Made bigger with each failed marriage

That grew to make room for the babies I could never have

And is currently being fed by fear of the spot on my liver

Fear of joining my cancer-ridden siblings in death

At night I feed it with pound cake and chips and red wine

During the day I feed it with professionalism

as I try to do one thing in life well

and sometimes with screaming unprofessionalism

as I fail to succeed in a dysfunctional workplace

At times, like this morning, when I am too exhausted to

stand up straight and carry on in the morning light

At times like this when I stop for a moment and sit very still

Alone with my thoughts

I simply sob until I have no more tears

And then I get up and get on with my day

Wondering if I will ever be able to heal this gaping hole

Or if it’s too late for a full recovery

perhaps just something to shore it up and keep it from engulfing me.

The missing muse….

I thought my muse had deserted me.  For over a year I haven’t put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, other than at my day job.  Then this morning I woke up and this…

 

It was years before she realized it was the marriage, not the divorce, that broke her.  Every time she acquiesced to one of his demands she had lost a bit of who she might have been.  Not taking writing class or going out with her friends anymore because he wanted her home in the evenings. The promotions she passed up, the relationships she let slip away, because it would take too much time away from their life together.   Always having sex in the same position while he whispered strange, ugly comments in her ear.  His odd attraction to granny panties.  Victoria Secret had been lost on him.  He preferred full coverage briefs that made her feel like someone’s pasta making grandmother.

She told herself it was okay, normal, even good.  She told herself she was happy.  She took care of him and their home as a good wife should until one day after 25 years he walked into the kitchen and told her over his morning coffee that he was moving to California with the firm’s young receptionist.

And now, here she stood just a few years later, on the brink of something new.  She felt as though she was beginning to travel down an unmarked path similar to the one that park rangers always discouraged hikers from following.  “Stay on the marked trail”, was the advice she’d always followed. Until today.  Today she was about to leap into an unknown forest of possibilities.

 

Life Goes On

I get up

Do my hair

Dress for success and put my make-up on

Go to work

Smile and converse

And then I come home and cry about you

I grocery shop

I pay the bills

Run the everyday errands that we all do

Smile at the clerks

Exchange pleasantries

And then I come home and cry about you

I meet my friends

Share some laughs

Smiles and hugs

Let’s do it again

And then I come home and cry about you

I visit the kids

We run and play

We laugh and jest

And at the end of the day

I come home and cry about you

I cry about you

I still cry about you

For Sale

One heart.

Great interior.

Still runs well.

Should provide someone with many more years of service.

Exterior in horrible condition.

Broken repeatedly.

Going for a smile.

All offers considered.

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: