How do you grieve the death of a child, who still walks among us? How can you explain to people that the little girl you so carefully nurtured no longer exists? Why are people so quick to assume that I must’ve done something horrible to create such a sick person? It takes a village to raise a child; however, it takes a sick family in a sick community to raise a monster.

I read infant development books. I went to parenting school. I attended parent-infant involvement classes. I understood that my parents were poor role models, and I wanted to do better. My daughter was enrolled in swimming lessons and competed on the swim team. She played T-ball. I gave her violin lessons and horseback riding lessons. I even saw to it that my daughter went to college.

Maybe, I never really knew my daughter. Maybe, she was born with psychopathy. I believe my siblings have psychopathy. All I know is that my adult child is lost, vindictive and violent. All my dreams of seeing my daughter make a difference in this world are shattered. All my hopes of having grandchildren to play with and to watch grow have been taken away.

Everything I have been taught to do by professionals and at Al-Anon meetings (to encourage my daughter to seek treatment) has been undermined by my siblings. I had to kick my daughter and the grand kids out of my home, after she tried to kill my dog in front of the children and beat me up (in the process). After finally ending up in jail for beating and strangling her husband, my daughter gets bailed out by my brother. After ending up with no friends or a place to stay because she has been abusive to everyone around her, my sister gives her a place to stay.

My grandchildren are now safe in a children’s home – but until she is convicted on domestic assault charges, my daughter still controls who is allowed to have contact with the kids. My siblings have accused me of exaggerating, lying and abandoning my adult child. I fear for the safety of my son-in-law and grandchildren. I fear for my own safety.

I have no daughter. All the sane and loving members of my family have passed away. CPS will probably be placing my grandchildren in foster care – as my home is not suitable for children and I do not have the funds to bring it up to foster-care standards. Also, there is no telling what the monster has told CPS about me.

Damn it! I am sad. I am grieving so many losses . . . and I feel so alone.

Moonlight drains the world’s colors

Inky stelliferous space

Darkness making the perfect cloak

Nocturnal animals come out to hunt and play

In cities, all the lights shine bright

Ghosts and spirits are seen now at the witching hour

Hungry students studying, look for a snack

The clocks all chiming twelve

She isn't suicidal

But maybe she is.

She won't cut herself

But maybe she will.

She won't pull the trigger.

But maybe she will.

She won't drink the poison.

But maybe she will.

She won't jump.

But maybe she will.

She won't take the pills

But maybe she will.

She won't hurt herself

But she already does.

She won't kill herself.

But she's already dead.

October 7,

IV. Mortals V. Without VI. Passion VII. Fade VIII. Effortlessly

To chaos are we born


Each of differing dualities


And perplexities to propagate

Patterns scattering 


Truth in varying shades



While actions mark the order


Or fracture of our choice


There comes the essence


Of fortune’s double guise


Giving rise to our voice


A subtle whisper, we divine


As autumn winds bring frailty

So lay our wisdom, a passing


Season of varying waste

A telling fable, we’re told


Of contrasting sides

Born on ideas immortal


Consign ourselves, though we try

The story is never so simple


As the age-old lie


Soothing as it may seem


We were never merely


Not of one, nor two things


In a word’s sea I sink

Of choices and thoughts reeling

Drowning, it seems


Until I embrace the waves


And simply drink


Amidst the storms I weep


For pain of its tearing gales

The shrapnel of memory


Flurries threateningly


Until I step beyond the eye


I cannot breathe its air,


Uplifting with fury


Beyond safety wail its winds


Temporal and temperamental,


It could be none but I

Who summoned it

So must I, too, learn to wield it

Of all she brings,


Of all names she’s deemed


Life, Death, whatever we seem


Always does she give us this offering


To be our pain’s Master or Bearer


For if there is one or two things


So simple of our choosing


While we do step and fade


Slipping to that final crossing


Master or Bearer,
 we are to be

But only one, one only


For each fateless moment


Of our willful choosing

I hope you're ready for late night White Castle runs, and singing Guns N' Roses songs at the top of our lungs. I hope you're ready for cereal for dinner, and watching Dirty Dancing three times in a row. I hope you're ready to chase each other through the kitchen, our socks sliding on the cold tile floor. I hope you're ready for board games at 2AM, and unplanned naps at 2PM. I hope you're ready for my unhealthy obsession with Elvis Presley, and driving to PetSmart just to play with puppies. I hope you're ready for Harry Potter marathons, and holding my hand while you drive. I hope you're ready for the arguments that end with us crying, and the ones that end with us laughing. I hope you're ready for the midnight "I love you's," and the midnight "scoot the fuck over's." I hope you're ready for my brown eyes, and the honey-glaze that covers them when they see you. I hope you're ready to love me like a song, and to carry me like a soul. I hope you're ready for everything in between the frail walls of my heart, and the vivid scars that reside there. I hope you're ready for my shaking voice apologizing for my mistakes, and my warm, hopeful hands clinging to your chest. I hope you're ready to forgive me, to hold me, to cherish me. I so desperately hope you're ready for our unconditionally holy, intensely passionate, infinitely child-like, crazed love, because my heart beats like a racehorse thinking of the track we're going to run.

Two watches....

Laid side by side,

One for him &

One for her.

Two minds in sync....

Ready to keep watch,

Over many timelines and

See that time keeps moving.

Two living beings....

Trained to observe,

Analyze ´nd comprehend

Events taking place globally.

Two keepers of time....

Working together,

Looking over the precious

Varying lengths of timelines.

Two ageless guardians....

Always awake,

Every day ´n' moment

Tracking all the eras of time.

Gold as a lion, the enchanted Cat . . .

He reigns through my screen, kneading this & that

With pensive Cheshire purr from ear to ear

There's little that he doesn't see, or hear

Lounging in Centers across his City. . .

On files sharpening Claws, he visits me . . .

In oddest of hours prowling with no fear

Kitkat in his kingdom yawns near, not here

Enchanted Cat, shares honeyed milk & fat . . .

Silk spinning yarns, beside my Laptop Cat

#Creativity<3 #inspiredwords