Monday, September 22, 2003

addiction

I know now why I've walked away
it is for the same pain thta all others stem from
It is Sylvia Plath with her "Daddy"
and my own futile attempt to avoid the bell jar
But I have been in the bell jar
And this is the one attempt to escape its clouds
The story has been told so many times
but never to the one that could change it, fix it.
The one most poignant, affecting moment
of my otherwise joyous childhood is a memory
A cracked, rarely black-topped driveway
behind the 1970s rancher that we all lived in
The empty oil-streaked spot of pavement
where his car had been parked for two short days
only to leave again, then again, and again
And that leaving, that simple singular moment is the one
that I've been compelled to recreate
to remind myself that I'm the same little girl
with the same fragile heart
that would break away every Sunday but be strong enough
to love so hard the next weekend
that I'd have the strength to do it all over
And now I've realized, with the phone
continuing its silent tirade against me tonight
That my life goal of self destruction
has been to continue that moment of pain.
It felt then like the thing killing me
Since, it has turned into the trial keeping me alive.
To distance myself from that one
who has the courage to look into my chameleon eyes
and say with some measure of
sincerity and grace a quiet, "I love you, too"
Never knowing that four words
could transform him from my strongest ally
into the target of my fear and wrath
And now I've pushed him away with what I
thought was the silent grace and
discretion of a letter composed with him sleeping
comfortably next to me in a
peaceful oblivion far away from the less than poetic
battle between happiness and routine
continuing in my head at all moments, in all kisses.
It has never been a fact that
he didn't have enough to offer me, keep me happy.
But it has always been the case
that I couldn't stop myself from wanting more.
And it has come to this again
with half-hearted ultimatums and paper-thin threats
That my greedy heart could never
carry out against one who has been stronger than me
from the very beginning, yet
somehow, even after the tenth ring, I expect
to hear his voice on the line
Cooled from the strain of suffering late night letters
ready to accept yet another apology
from the flighty girl he had chosen to be with.
But for once, the big truths are simple.
In all my complaining, I failed to notice
that his honesty is the same as
my daddy's as he left me squealing in the driveway.
When he said I belonged there
that if he wanted me to leave he would say so.
When he said he'd make it safely
and call as soon as he could to whisper comforts
When he said I love you, too
and unknowingly recalled the most sacred ritual
of that childhood bearing
one raised, still gleaming scar; when he said all this
He meant it all in a way
that those who are still playing the game
could never come to know
or understand or appreciate, because all of this
was made into a cycle
to fuel the insecurities I spent so long ignoring
And I don't yet know which moments
I will keep as my medals of another battle
fought and lost with only words
The stomach down head propped position of letter writing
the deep peaceful hum of his sleep
the hours and cups of coffee lost to waiting.