blaming_him
andie so many times
i have told the story
the one of where he left me
waiting-----on the front porch
for the old familiar truck to drive up
my seven and a half year old tears
when i realized he wasn't coming
and that story has been my alibi
held fast to in tough times
like a child to a security blanket
this is why i am how i am
my youth troubled with so many questions
why did he do such a thing?
how do you abandon a child?
still, no answer has come
whenever the safety and sanctity
of my heart was threatened
there was his shadow
to chase the unknown away
this is why i am how i am
just the other night, thinking of him
and how his reappearance
turned my existence upside down
i wonder why i let him do that to me
what he did for so many silent year
left me aching for love, yet fearing it
and this is why i am how i am

copyright 2001
010113
...
deb it's so easy to do,
casting all that hatred
and empty anger
upon the boychild
who corrupted me-
what's worse, though,
is to blame yourself-
"i could have run away"
"i could have said something"
"if i had only..."
"if i hadn't..."
somehow, it had to be my fault,
though-
somehow-
it's the only way
i can deal with all of this,
blaming myself-
and then i watch
good will hunting
and at the
"it's not your fault.
it's not your fault.
it's not your fault."
part,
i break down
in tears-
because it really wasn't.
and the movie moves along.
and i splash cold water
on my now-swollen eyes.
and i pretend
it didn't make me cry again.
010114
what's it to you?
who go
blather
from