Ode to Ayn Rand

Where am I?
Where did I go?

Anger like stones on my glass heart
Trapped by the darkness in the light
Living in the shadows of depression
Staring straight ahead a nothing
Trying to breathe
No breath left
No ME left,
Do you even see me?
To save myself
I must feel nothing
Hear nothing.

What happened to my dreams?
What is left?
What is let of me?

Talk striking me like hot coals
Shattering the silent wall that protects me
Ambushed wherever I go
There is no safety in my home
Arrows of words stab my soul
The threats storm over me
There is no place of defense
Why can't you see that words hurt?
Pain in the depth of me

There is calmness in the dark of night.
The walls l have built around me
Giving some semblance of shelter.

Lectures like icy sheets
Drench me with frigid words
Chilling me to the core of being
Red-faced wild eyed
Constant flow of fury
Thrusting what is left of me
Away, further in the depths
Until there is nothing left of me .

Where did I go?
What makes me stay?

Anger like lava
Flowing over me and searing my essence
Searing me
Until there is nothing left of what was me here
Panic takes my breath away
Slipping away to the shadows of my mind
I am afraid of the light
Looking for a lifeline
But there is no one there
Words hammering at my rendered soul
I fall into myself

I sit through the edged safety
of the night
and tried
to find myself
in the ashes of my life

And then

I shrugged.

Poetry And The Body
(Last Night, Last Thoughts)
January 19, 2010

My Mother was dying.
So much can be read or
Felt in the line.
But that is the bare fact.

But that last night had magic to it

She was in hospice at the hospital
Had chosen not to have any more
Painful tests or
Take anymore drugs.
She was ready.
Said her Good-byes.
(I think she forgot she had done the first time)

But that last night had magic to it

By 10:00 PM, everyone had left
But my daughter, Megan, and niece, Eileen.
I was spending the night with Mom
So, I was able to see the magic.

The two girls drew chairs up close to the bed.
Mom could not open her eyes or talk
But still could hear,
Smile, grimace, and wave her fingers,
And faintly squeeze your hand.

And than the magic happened

The girls bent close to their grandmother
And whispered secrets in her ear.
Secrets about them and their cousins,
Secrets about my brother and sisters,
Funny things we had done that
Grandma might not know.
Trouble we had gotten into
And kept from her.
(Nothing really bad.
We are really a sober bunch)

The three of them
Laughed and giggled together

And Mom did laughe with them
She would smile or make a face,
Move her eyes (not open them)
Wave her fingers
Squeeze their hands
Not a firm squeeze

I just sat in the corner and
Watched the magic.

Around midnight the girls
Said their last good-byes
And went home.

That was the last time
Mom responded to anything.
l sat with her that long night
And watched her stillness.
She died late the next morning.

But I still remember that
Her last thoughts were of
Giggles and laughter.


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