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Rose Tea

  Words are like the weather They can be cozy as cashmere  Bundled up The heat from the fire Melts the mountain chill Boots packed with  ice  crunch and squeak Steam wets my upper lip and  dews my nose  as I breathe  into my  bone china teacup  with my favorite rose tea- Swirling a tea bag is the perfect repetitive movement  For a fiddler like me But words, like the weather, Can be treacherous too A monsoon in the desert evening Winds howling, walls heaving Against a high-pitched squall  That yearns to pull the  earth from its roots Thunder bellows Lightning dazzles the night sky Unless, of course, You happen to be the thing  In between the lightning and the ground A scorned ego has no friends only foes So vengeful a god  who scolds at random As the sky cannot bear fury  a second longer Electricity rips the atmosphere And tonight,  anyone could die  by lightning strike

Return to Saturn

My Return to Saturn
Illuminated old patterns

The rain outside
Pouring this mourning
Doesn’t come close
To the grief I feel 
Inside of me

29 years

Of being groomed to hide

The sickness of narcissistic 

Family dynamic


The first time I spoke up 

For what I did and didn’t want

I was pushed out the car

By the same man that used to ask 

Me, “Why are you so beautiful?”

And I’d reply, “Because of God.”


I have the scar 
On my right knee
My leg split open
I watched it bleed
And in that moment
I learned having 
my own opinion
Is not safe for me

“I’m not a violent man,
I’m driven to violence,” 
He would say
And I would pretend to believe it
Nod my head and say, “Okay.”

He wanted me until then,
Until I said
I didn’t want to go somewhere
With him
So he raged on a 7 year old
But once I saw
The hero he was not,
I opened Pandoras box
So he discarded me
No more use for me,
Now that I’ve seen too much

My Return to Saturn
Has illuminated deep patterns

I asked my mom
Would I ever have children?
She told me I was too selfish 
To have kids of my own
She brutally described childbirth 
Like a hot knife ripping 
you open
Plus she told me 
My ovaries were broken
Just enough detail 
Just enough lie
to make me doubt
That I was even capable of 
Having kids in my life

My Return to Saturn

Has illuminated painful patterns


Like the pitbull 

tied to her kitchen table

She’s kept me on a financial cable

I now know why

I’m tied to you,

So I can be close 

enough to abuse


You fooled me into believing
That gratitude means
Silence in the face of 
Of violence
In your world,
If you pay for something,
You own the right to violate me

When I tried to bond with you
Or sought comfort from you
It got weaponized against me
Every word I spoke
Became ammunition 
and dirt you rubbed against me
You taught me not to speak up
For my needs
To keep my head down
Let you do as you please

After an explosion
the next day is back to normal
as if nothing happened
Until I need something
Then it’s back to the floor on my knees 
Begging you and saying please
"Please don’t do this to me
I’ll do what you want
I’ll let you spew hate at me
But I’m in a bind financially
And can’t you please 
just send me some money"

And then I hear
“That’s all you ever want from me
You just use me for money
You abuse me financially”
And I play along because
you believing that I believe that-
Or at least you thinking
I feel guilty for my existence
and have to beg for your forgiveness-
Is safer than me ever coming to 
You for something emotional,
God forbid I ask you for advice,
I’ve made that mistake more than twice
You told me a manifactured lie
And I lost everything I’d ever 
worked for in my life

I see now you’ve 
groomed me to accept 
abuse in return
For chum bits of money
Resources that you hoard
Dad pretending like he’s poor
7 Harleys, 1 Indian, 10 cars, 3 properties
Yet his daughter gets EBT
Drives an unsafe car
And has to beg him for money
Meanwhile she’s not 
invited to his life of luxury 
To his Christmas yacht parties 
with his motorcycle club
Because that would mess everything up
If the club saw me doing well
You couldn’t keep up your 
martyr narrative of a poor father
With the drug addict daughter 
The old sob story you sell

My Return to Saturn
Has illuminated sad patterns

Like how Christmas 
is never on Christmas
Maybe the day before, 
maybe the day after
I don’t get a say
If Dad spends his holiday
With us
Because I already know
10 times out of 10
If it’s up to him,
He’ll pick overtime pay

Even though you 
locked me out on my birthday
Tried to take off on Thanksgiving
Before I could get there
And I pulled up just as you 
were rushing out the door
This Christmas is different
Because I see patterns now
I see the same thing 
playing on repeat
I see the calculated pain
You inflict on me 
Just to say 
That I’m so ungrateful
And you’re so ashamed of me

I’ve let you betray me enough
I’m not sorry that me standing up
Is less dramatic than you’d like
A stonewall of silence
Is my choice of weapon
even though
you want a fight

When I was a child
Every Sunday
My prayer request would be
That my mom
Would stop saying cruel things to me
I looked for security in the wrong place
I was poisoned more than once
I’ve had bruises on my face
I've been systematically slandered
To the local police
Because when Dad smashed my face 
and beat me, he didn’t want to lose his job
But the next door neighbors heard me screaming
So they called 911

So quickly he devised the perfect plan
He’d pull out his phone and film my reaction
And tell the cops I was on drugs
But when that worked, and he knew it would,
Because he’s a fireman, 
upright and good
He still needed to take care of me
Silence me so I would never speak

A few calculated lies should 
smother and soften my self worth
As long as he 
Gaslighted good 
and gaslighted often
I would be too busy doubting my reality 
To ever speak up to authorities

And to be safe- 
He had to be calculated
Just in case he ever got interrogated-
So he called the local police department
Every couple of years
To tell them I was a drug addict 
And mentally ill,
Anyone with ears to hear

My Return to Saturn
Has illuminated some patterns

Now when I see them
I am no longer able
To accept my place
As the pitbull 
tied to the table
When I feel sadness
I will not try to stifle it

I’ve gotten my licenses
And my profession in order
So I will never have to ask
The resource hoarders
For anything again

And when I see abuse plain as day
I won’t deny it, I’ll make a note of it
A paper trail record
Keeps the lies at bay.

I no longer bear the 
shame of their secrets
If something’s amiss,
I’ll speak up
Because

My Return to Saturn
Has illuminated the patterns
And I am the generational 
Curse breaker 
Incarnated to bring light 
to darkness

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