The best of me.

[Mary Ann]

Sometimes sadness gets the best of me,
Seeping in as subtly as the sighing summer tide,
A murmuring presence in the background, unnoticed
Till it's grown to a roar, my feet are wet and cement heavy, there's no going back
'What do you like about your Mother?'
'Your Dad?'....I ask my friends, trying to sound casual
Past the tightness of grief in my throat
But I'm not fooling anyone, it's indecent
This craving for details,
I'm embarrassed by it
Like a teenage boy caught with the bra catalogue
Peering in from every angle,
'Your Mum played games with you?
Did she get angry? How would she be?
What food did she cook?
What if you were crying? Cranky? What then?'

Sometimes fear gets the best of me.
Twisting like an eel in my middle
Sending flashes of current streaking to my chest and guts,
An electric ell perhaps?
This mythical creature has powers
That it gives to keep me safe....to remember details
And search for meaning, in faces not just words,
To see what you need and do it, before you even speak,
Thoughts racing, too fast for words,
Speech and feelings trail behind.
Give the eel its voice and it's hissing,
'Her face...why's she looking like that? You must've done something bad?'
(The possibilities are endless here)...but how to put it right?
What do they want me to say....Do?
What will happen if I say that, will anyone still want me?

Sometimes anxiety gets the best of me
A chain reaction that lasts for weeks not days
The critical mass depends on the fuel,
And there are many types and sources of this
So the amount needed varies.
A room FULL of people
Or just ONE hand on my thigh,
A street with MANY watching eyes,
Or that ONE appraising, expectant look
When it's almost bedtime.
As light and suffocating as swallowed cotton wool,
Makes voices louder, movement faster
Air thinner, pain feel less...
Till spent it collapses, almost mellow now
Like the harmless rays of the sun,
Rather than Chernobyl
The certainty of annihilation
Reduced to a constant rising and sinking cycle of 'what ifs'.

Shame has always had a grip on me
Cringing, wailing, I was shoved into her disdainful hands
And she's never let me forget it...never let go.
I'm swathed in an ugly, stinking, ill fitting coat
That I can't shake off, a stain I was born with,
When people come near enough to see
They should be as disgusted as I am
And if not....there must be something wrong with THEM!
She speaks almost kindly, using HER voice
'Well! That shows what sort of person YOU ARE...darling'
Too big to hide,  too loud, too visible by far
I'm an embarrassing burden, but she looks after me because others won't.
Or it's HIS voice, low as an oily whisper..
'You like This...don't you?'
And I played along with him in the dark,
My face hot, a plain child not able to say no.
But what would you expect? This is ME...
And now everyone can see it!

[rainydiary]

Thank you for sharing this.

[paul72]

My goodness Mary Ann, I am sorry for your experiences that brought you to this spot.
Your writing is an incredible gift.. please know you've shared something beautiful here, and I'm very thankful.
I hope you find some peace today.

[Mary Ann]

Thank you so much for responding, it really means a lot to me...