Also on Amazon PRINT or E-BOOK http://www.amazon.com/Spectrum-Watercolored-Mrs-Melanie-Thomason/dp/1505755239
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Morning after in one of its more disturbing forms. Reading this just after waking up (when the night wasn’t particularly welcoming) made me stare at the ceiling without the ability to name my feelings.
Well I hope you were able to shake that off and enjoy your day!
My dad woke up like this everyday of his life – or at least once he started drinking – at age 10. This piece brings to mind his face – I remember it still all too well and the way he looked in the morning…
I’m sorry you had to witness that, it is not pretty.
You are right. It is not pretty and a sight i will never forget. It is engrained into my head and no matter how hard i try to forget or not think about it, it never goes away.
Powerful writing Melanie. Failure weighs heavy in the lines and a sense of hopelessness follows all the way through to the very end. Amazing work.
I’m glad you like it. 🙂
Reblogged this on Rethinking Life and commented:
Melanie wrote this powerful and amazing poem.
Thank you so much!
I saw this on Gigi’s blog and had to come over here and tell you well done. My Pa was a drinker and towards the end of his life he didn’t drink. My mom blamed all the problems on that but then she was controlling, some people do not mix well together especially when alcohol is involved that damage it does is unbelievable. I think! Wonder Melanie
Thank you, sweet one! It is hard and sad to see someone yo care about in that situation for sure.
Oh yes much love to you😄💗
Failure infects, terrifies, and rips out peoples souls. Fear of failure steals your goals.
Very true and did you notice you answered in rhyme? Your comment is a mini poem 🙂
You have chosen a perfect metaphor for the poison of judging ourselves. My step-father was an alcoholic. I have seen the look. Defeat, shame, pain.
A powerful poem. Thank you.
(a visitor by way of Gigi’s blog)
Thank you, I’m glad for your visit. Gigi is wonderful isn’t she?!
Yes, she is.
Your words resonate personally for me. Seeing loved ones sink right before our eyes, praying for an intervention, praying as children that if only we were better children. Growing, leaving, and as we did, holding to that sick fear daily, the one in the pit of our stomachs. Broken and torn b y the dreams and prayers never realized. Receiving the dreaded phone call, the accident, the two dead, and giving thanks no innocent were victims amidst the mass of the destruction.
And then the brutality of guilt that we had silently wishing for the end, and realizing that all those youthful prayers were also hiding the subconcious of wishing they would just die.
The aftermath, the dysfuntional family attempting to bring our thoughts outside from the depth of the darkness we padlocked them into, admiting, finally and mutually, we were not the bad children, the responsible parties, but the victims of something beyond our human capacities or abilities.
Taking our own turn to damn our own frailties, striving to find how to weave a beautiful world out of all that chaos, hoping to break a cycle. Living each day as a new day to work on our own flaws, as we learn to forgive those who caused the mayhem. Understanding their humanity was as fragile as ours is.
Thank you so very much. I’m glad it resonated and at the same time so sorry that it did. I am touched that you chose to share some of your story, your truth here. It is a hard road to get to this place of knowing that what happened to us and around us when we were children was not at all our faults. Even harder still is learning to love ourselves and know we are worthy of love from others when we were made to feel anything but.
So poignantly articulated. Thank you. Keep writing, you have such a way with words. Happy New Year, too.
Thank you and Happy New Year!!