Abusive Remains
Siblings.
Each has their own version of What happened and How,
but most importantly, Why.
Emptied of shame, I still wonder.
Am I sure in my memories?
Have I scratched theme enough to bleed,
to tear a hole deep through to
the beating heart that still skips a beat
when HIS name is mentioned?
Did HE really hang the moon?
Was HE blameless,
spotless?
HE was, after all,
remorseless.
Should I feel guilty? Was I mistaken?
Perhaps I was demon-possessed after all.
One good exorcism and I’d be like new.
One dip in the blood of the Lamb and I’d be reborn… or so she says.
Except, as I drift off to sleep on some nights,
my head still tilts back slooooowly and
my mouth opens and
I am choked in that brutal rhythm.
It was real.
It happened.
It remains.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Poetic Asides asked for poems on the word “Empty,” and ABC Wednesday, rather than reverting to another alphabet, started over with “A.” Also posted at the STELLAR blog, Poets United. Come to all these sites. Meet my genius friends!! Amy
Sharp Little Pencil 
Roger Green
Yeah, sometimes it’s the victim who thinks she or he is crazy. Applicable in other settings (was that really racism/sexism/homophobia) or am I oversensitive/overreacting?
ROG
Sharp Little Pencil
Now this opens up a whole new conversation. The phenomenon described actually happened to me before (and even after) I found out my dad had molested me when I was very small. Stuffed those memories until I got an ulcer, and still have PTSD.
As for racism, I’ve been in situations where I was misconstrued because of my skin color, which is ironic because of all the years I’ve been in jazz, from age 5. I don’t look at skin color and judge, but sometimes others do, white, brown, black, whatever, and I think to myself, “Am I nuts? Did I say something insensitive?” And sometimes it was a matter of interpretation. It’s when you decide to sit down maturely and discuss the matter than things get cleared up – and allies and friends are made.
Homophobia? Sexism? You know, Rog, it’s harder for you than me. I’ve always been welcome in the LGBT “sandbox” because I’ve always been… me. I don’t know. But if you are a white, straight male in American society, it’s easy to be seen by many as a natural enemy because, let’s face it, it’s generally white straight males who start wars and do all the bad stuff – because they have always had the power. Ah, but the difference is in the color: GREEN. Not your name! It’s about money, who has it and who doesn’t. That makes you welcome in my sandbox anytime, because I know you’re not a stuffed shirt! Amy
liv2write2day
There is so much pain hidden in these lines, Amy. Beautiful, thought-provoking poem as we walk through life bearing the burdens of the past.
BTW, when my sister was dying, we had such different memories of our growing up years. It amazes me our our psyches reconstruct reality to protect us in our journey through life.
Sharp Little Pencil
Liv, it’s so true. I’m sorry you lost your sister, hon, first off. It’s like losing a bit of yourself.
Looking back, I know that we were all three years apart and in different places in our lives when things happened. The only truth I need to tell is my own, but it does hurt one of my siblings, who doesn’t believe it. Complicated story, but I know in my heart what I know, what happened to ME. I don’t force that reality on her, so we get along OK.
Thanks so much for this thoughtful comment, Liv. Amy
vivienne Blake
These poems are painful to read, but must have a cathartic effect on the sufferer. Write it all, then move on.
Sharp Little Pencil
Sometimes I wonder if it will ever be written, all of it. I suppose when folks stop reading… but part of my calling is to let folks know it’s OK to talk about issues like this, and mental disorders, and all the rest. Having gay or lesbian kids. Being a sloppy drunk once upon a time. And the pot era brought about some of my funniest posts, too. So who knows, Viv? I may die with a pen in my hand and a song on my lips.
Kim Nelson
A serious subject frankly addressed. Even when we are sure we have exorcised the demons, they revisit, unbidden from time to time. I actually felt ill at the last few lines, Amy. Well done.
Sharp Little Pencil
Kim, I can’t say I’m sorry you felt ill, because it means the poem connected the way I meant it to. As I said to Viv, my calling is to write about these issues so that others will realize they are carrying unearned guilt and that it’s OK to talk about them. The secrecy is what kills. Thanks very much. Peace, Amy
booguloo
May you one day find peace and closure.
Sharp Little Pencil
I’ve forgiven. It’s the forgetting that is the most difficult. Thank you for a most sensitive comment, Michael. Amy
ladynimue
You shock me every time I read about this .. and same time my heart goes to millions others facing same misfortune ..
Sharp Little Pencil
I know it may seem like I’m beating a dead horse, but when someone reads one of these pieces for the first time and writes me with their story, which they have never told anyone, I know I am doing the right thing. It’s my calling, along with LGBT supportive writing, mental health, all of it. And my heart, too, goes out to all…
Thank you for reading what you already knew and still commenting, Nimue. That means the world to me. Peace, Amy
Wanda
Your sharp pencil strikes deep cords. Very touching,
Sharp Little Pencil
Thank you very much, Wanda. I’m heading over to your site now. Peace, Amy
Paula Scott Molokai Girl Studio
Chilling and compelling. And earth shattering all in one package.
Sharp Little Pencil
Paula, thank you so much for this emotional comment. I’m glad I connected – and knowing your writing as well as I do, that’s a good thing! Peace, Amy
Debbie
Amy, you handle this topic . . .and other hard ones . . .in a way that impacts. And helps. Thank you for using your gift of words!
Sharp Little Pencil
Thank you so much, Debbie. I’m sure this is not your cup of tea, so I appreciate your generosity. Hard to write these, but it’s really my calling… if only to help others tell their stories. Peace, Amy
Elizabeth
Amy, you always have a way of so succinctly pouring your emotions, memories and insights into such beautiful words and in a way that I think the church particularly needs to hear. It is all too easy to claim for others to speak of the immediate ‘cleansing blood’ and ‘living in victory’ when, for many, the process of living and dealing with issues is a slow, laboured battle that it is important to travel through. x
Sharp Little Pencil
Elizabeth, thank you for a most thoughtful reply. Yes, I agree, the church needs to bridge that gap – we also need to get pastors to recognize the signs of abuse, of domestic violence, of drug use – and not have them try to counsel the folks strictly through church teachings, no matter the denomination. I knew a child molester who claimed he had been “washed in the blood of the Lamb” and so would be willing to babysit my daughter. I said, “Joseph, Jesus forgives, but even He doesn’t forget.” (Trying to speak to him in his terms; he was evangelical, speaking in tongues church.) I told him to get secular counseling, join a support group, but he refused, sure that Jesus alone had cured him, and having been assured by his pastor. Needless to say, he molested again.
My calling, if you will, is to write about these things – abuse, mental disorders, lapses into illicit drugs in my 20s – in a way that folks who have been or are going through it can say, “you know what? I should speak to someone, too.” Lots of folks contact me via email, etc. to tell their stories. I have a full toolbox of advice, usually simple words: Get a counselor. If the counselor says you need meds, don’t be afraid. And never stop praying.” Thanks again. Peace, Amy
MiskMask
This is almost too painful for comment, as if adding another word might dilute the sentiment.
Sharp Little Pencil
A very thoughtful comment, Marilyn, and I appreciate it so much. Bless you. Amy
dreamingthruthetwilight
My heart cries . How much mental turmoil through the years.No child deserves to be put through. this. But deep, deep inside , when we peel off all these external skins of experiences and circumstances, we are pure essence, a part of that serenity that runs through all..him that was the perpetrator and the young girl child who was the victim. Eventually , one has to work towards that core of peace and nobody can do it for another.
Sharp Little Pencil
Nadira, This post was a true story. That the child was me and the disagreement is between myself and my one sister who has accepted the abuse. and one who has put Dad on a pedestal rather than accept the sick, sick man he was… makes it all the more personal.
My sister and I have worked many years to peel away the layers, through therapy and open talks. I was not able to accept this truth until after he died because at the heart, I was too scared. I have learned to forgive him… and although I cannot forget, I feel that bringing these poems to light sometimes helps others feel not so alone, perhaps less ashamed, even though that guilt for the child is entirely unearned, you feel it anyway.
Thank you for a most thoughtful comment. I look forward to coming over your way.
Beriowne
Powerful…
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks, Berowne. The story is, of course, about my dad, which cannot be easy for a man to read, so I applaud you. Amy
Bodhirose
This is a very powerful and life-changing experience that you survived and write about here and I know of what you speak when you say how differently siblings can remember events. Liv is right, people sometimes bury their feelings and change their perceptions about things to protect their psyches–it’s a protection mechanism against harsh realities.
I’m very sorry you had to go through this experience but I think it can be healing for you to continue this calling–and to keep “beating that dead horse”.
Peace,
Gayle
Sharp Little Pencil
Gayle, thanks for a very thoughtful post and for your support. I really don’t think we can talk about it enough, in part because it makes up for centuries of denial.
I’m not as sorry I went through it now that I understand what happened. In the days since therapy, diagnosis (including PTSD, which lingers), and treatment, I’ve been very fortunate with generally good doctors (only one exception, and bad psychiatrist who made me check myself in). Before that, I would have night terrors, freakouts, and of course, the self-medication.
Curiously, I have the same disorder – manic depression – as Amy WInehouse. She refused to take her meds and instead went on binges, very self-destructive. I’m living proof that you can survive just about anything with the help of meditation, medication, and forgiveness. Peace to you, Amy
Bodhirose
No, we can’t talk about these things enough, Amy. Because there are still those who live in deep shame and won’t speak of it. We can show them that it’s ok and that the shame is not ours to hold on to.
I grew up with an alcoholic, manic-depressive father who was selfish and narcissistic. No fun. I suffer from anxiety and panic–medication, meditation and therapy have helped me immensely. I encourage everyone to get help–you don’t have to live in abject misery. Oh, yes, and forgiveness–still working on that one.
Peace…
Gayle
Sharp Little Pencil
Amen to all that, sister. Isn’t amazing that we lived to TELL about these things? All the self-destructive behaviors in my past have roots in that abominable act committed by a sick man. The speaking-out part is definitely to get folks (women AND men) to start seeking therapy and letting go of all that undue burden of angst.
Your dad sounds like a combination of aspects of both my parents, and my heart goes out to you, Bodhirose, for having gone through it. But I can tell that you and I are both stronger than what life gave us at the start. We figured it out. We sought help. And we endure. WE WIN. Eventually, if you are able to work your way (slowly) to forgiveness, it will be like a rock off your shoulder. I forgave – but I never will forget. Thanks for your message, Gayle. Peace, Amy
leiffyv
It’s a good thing I stopped listening to the Shining at this point because I would have been in an even darker mood since this brings back so many memories for me. We are kindred, I’ll admit it. We’ve traveled down a road dark and wounded, though our experiences are different. See? Told ya I’d walk in your shoes because our shoes are alike.
Thanks for sharing Amy, thanks for visiting and your very kind words. Glad to know my words can affect someone. Take care!
Sharp Little Pencil
We are a bigger family than you will ever know, Leif. That’s the way of the world, unfortunately. But at least, as writers, we can find those commonalities and help each other express our experiences, dark though they may be… Love, Amy
Lafemmeroar
It’s true that siblings in the same household can have different perspectives of family life. Also repressed events make us wonder about our physical and mental reality. It’s a journey to find the truth.