“Fencing”
- A poem upon realizing and recognizing the broken boundaries of the dilapidated home of Self after years of unknown & unrecognized trauma, self-abuse, and a pattern of past relational dynamics - an inability to ‘hold”.
“Worn by the weather and the rain,
The strange passage of Father Time Followed me.
He wouldn’t leave me alone
as much as I tried
to escape him.
Accidentally smashing
Clocks along the way.
From behind my wooden doorway,
I peer, En Guard
My Eye wandering to
Property’s Edge
The Fence
dilapidated and gap toothed,
grinned at me like a sad excuse for a poorly carved pumpkin-smile
How long has it been?
Since I tended to my fences?
Said my sorries?
Made my amends?
Or even changed my bed?
Weeks? Months?
Years, if I’m honest…
I saw you coming down the road
Walking slowly in my direction,
a curious thing appearing,
Newly shaping itself with every approaching footstep.
Curious. Curious.
Said my cat.
A farm hand perhaps?
Nails and a large hammer
Finally pressed into my palms,
But squatting down,
I say hello
to a shiny potato bug instead;
The oppressive Son far too bright
for these moon-darkened eyes.
And just like the rest. .. . .. . .. .
He passed right on through.
My Fences still left untended to
Left unamended to
A little sadder too
And just as he came,
He slipped right on through.
. .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . ..
And I let him too,
If I’m feeling honest.”