I wish to God that I had been in a situation that I didn't have to know
anything about her at all. That I had never seen her again after she threw
my hand off her like that. That being why I was a danger to myself or another-
that I touched somebody suggestively when they did not want to be touched.
That that would be reason to lock me up and corner me into suicide. I don't know
if I should cry or if I should laugh. But what I do know is that I wish I had never
known a thing about her again for the rest of my life. That I did not know that that
was her voice on those commercials. That I always had something better to do
than watch television in a trance hours on end. That I always had a fulfilled and
satisfying life that I would not have to know a thing about her. That I would not have
almost bought the house next door to her before she lived there-with so many
wild happy party memories in that house. That I did not have to be reminded of her
insulting rejection, and even worse, who should would rather be with than me:
a false accuser of rape, a murderer, a judgmental connoitreer of suicide. Oh God,
how can God be so cruel to corner and force me to know about any of this. That
I almost bought that house next door and lived there off and on with my main
squeeze for three or four years. That I drank and partied and danced there..had sex
and fought and tried this and that. That I ever had to know about what she is doing.
Subjecting her children to a murderer, a fraudster, somebody who comes off like
something I can not even write about it is so disgusting. Who would ever think?
And so involved she is with this creepy murderer next door. That too almost cornered
me into death-a stroke from stark repulsion and disbelief. I don't know why she
has been out to kill me from some roundabout way for a long long time. I don't know
why what is repulsive trauma to me represents sex and social comfort to her. I don't know
how and why I could not have just been navigated a better direction. It would have all
been so easy to avoid and I felt and seemed so set up to avoid it all, but nothing has
worked for me since following that monster's threat commandments and strategies
to destroy me by a third party. Nothing in my life has worked easily since then. Nothing.
Oh noh she is sadistic, you deserve better, so keep away from her, a guy who's understanding would be better. I like the way you express and relate this in a realistic yet dramatic true way. Your word choice is awesome as well apt for your saga enhancing its literary journal effect. Kudos. Pls pleez do comment/ review my newest poem too titled, " The Hajj pilgrimage "
Thank you for reading; she's not only sadistic- she's involved with and protecting a murderer from being incriminated by not divulging asked for information to me! I will read your poem now; thank you for recommending.
you have learned the trick of getting more comments: make some of them from YOU! ! :) fabricated or not, always grammatically correct or not, a 'real poem' or not, this is fascinating, both the poem and the Poet's Notes, AND some comments i read. writing poetry and wishing to Gd (or God?) are useful therapies if they work. personally i gave up praying and gave up G (a woman, an Alpha Female, in disguise, I'm sure) fifty years ago. bri :)
Just a weird situation where somebody who rejected me ended up with a terrible actual thrill kill murderer but also ended up moving to my childhood town, so I have to constantly be reminded of this choice…know about it and be subjected to it. So it has seemed inncesessitously painful and avoidable.
Reads like a script Plays like a film. Vividly real, Fascinating! Sorry, about your personal experience and suffering. It can really be felt.
I am quite freaked out myself by how truly terrible some of these people I know from my decades ago past have become now decades later. So weird. Poetry is a great escape from true suffering.
I " Got in" with the WRONG people in college, many years ago; but they have proven to be every bit as frightening as a serious gang- with a kill thrill murder involved and everything and the worst of them is a cop now! So sadly, my fear and suffering is real and poetry is my only escape. Thank you for your compassion.
We all feel the same with rejection.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
This is really intense. I had to cast away my relationship trauma or it would have eaten me from inside. Even so, it was like severing part of myself. In a way I envy you because you are clear and aware, not anaesthetizing yourself. This gives you rich material and you've started transmuting it into poetry.
took me years to go from a primal scream to any articulation whatsoever