The Story

Tell a tale of yesterday. Tell a tale of woe. All of her unhappiness. Wrapped up in one big foe.

Tell of beating, heart-break and more. Tell of loss and how she mourns. Talk of times of happiness brings the pain to her breast.

She knows no love given her. She gave so much. Her love was pure. Taken for granted and tossed away.

And times she hid to keep them away.

Tales of love you won’t find here. Her strength and truth persevere. She is tired, battered, lonely and torn.

Don’t feel sorry, there is another morn. She gets up daily strong and true. Hoping this day
the light will shine through.

All of this she calls her life. Until one day she finally finds. The one that will hold her true. The one that knows just what to do.

She has no doubt she will find this life. Because she has faith every night.




Holding On

My heart is broken for all of the difficult times in my life. There have been many wonderful times. Full of joy and happiness. The hard times grow too heavy to carry some days. They weigh on my mind and soul. I have to fight to bring back the good memories.



Walking through the woods

River whispering in my ear

Wind gently touching my hair

Smell of the earth and trees easing my mind

Memories of simpler times

The secrets that the river shares

The wind steels before I can hear

The blue jays play very near

Rustling coming from here or there

Little squirrels and chipmunks too

My soul is quiet mind is sharp

This is how I’ll heal my heart



Sit Like A Child

I sit quiet, still like a child

I hope that I blend in

Not wanting to be noticed

Afraid to make a mistake

I don’t speak unless spoken to

My mind as empty as I can make it

Not wanting to move or twitch

Not even a scratch

I hope they won’t notice my fear

I smile, I know it doesn’t look real

I am 40 years old

I sit like a child waiting to be scolded

Sent away or worse

I am safe here, I know they won’t hurt me

Yet the fear remains

Seen but not heard

I wish I could melt away or become brave

I don’t know which would be worse

So I sit like a child



If I Told You?

Would telling you the story of my past have helped you? Would you have treated me different? Worse or maybe better? Why did I never tell you? I did not want your pity. I felt that I was stronger than the pain. What happened to me I didn’t want to define me. I needed to be accepted by someone. Loved and treated with kindness not with hands that felt they needed to fix me. I didn’t want sympathy! I knew what I went though was hard. I wanted to be treated like everyone else not a broken little girl. If I had told you would you have used my story against me. People have done that. Maybe you would not have hurt me?

If I tell you now after all of these years what good would it do? I still don’t want your pity. I have known you for a lot of years maybe it is time you know me? But what would it change for you to know these horrible things about my life? I am afraid you will treat me different. I don’t want to be different. Might it explain why I react the way I do? Would it help you understand the nightmares? But I don’t want you to change the way you treat me because you feel bad for me. I don’t want you to accuse me of using my past to judge you or others. I work hard not to do that. I don’t want you to hurt me and say well I know you’ve been though worse. So suck it up. Others have said these things to me. I just want you to love and accept me.

I think I am hard to love.