FATHER COMPLEX (Complex Father)
It’s tricky, sticky wicked
That piñata over her head
Follows her night and day and
especially late at night
Waking sweatshivering but
carrying HIS shame, unfair…
Quivering over vague memories or
screaming at every fire alarm,
My house is burning down
(as her young kids cower)
Piñata full of poisoned treats
Candied little deaths
One for every time it happened
It’s chockfreakinfull
Been that way for many
yeasty years, its yaw
occasionally pin-pricked
(precision meets sweaty palms)
but never baseball batted
The conundrum:
If she whacks it, will candy
attack her with what it is?
Will she binge on the bittersweets
and purge up the truth?
Or will the piñata float
over her like a raincloud
Rancid, restless, ever
present
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For ABC Wednesday, the letter being F. Also in the margins at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads and Poets United.
For all women who have not gotten to the truth of having been molested as a young child: this type of horror is usually perpetrated by a family member or close friend. For me, it was my dad, so I used him. Hell, he used me enough, why not?
If alarms alarm you to the point of screaming, if the surprise of a lover’s gentle touch makes you jump out of the bed… Think about seeing a therapist, NOT a psychiatrist, cause baby, this chigger can’t be chased away by chugging drugs.
A comprehensive article on the signs pointing to both remembering and finding the way to recovery may be read HERE.
You’ll go through hell in therapy, maybe need a temporary anti-anxiety med, but you just might be rewarded with a life worth living, and kids who are not scared of you, nor embarrassed by your public explosions. Call Samaritan Counseling, they have a sliding scale. And your issue may be something totally different, even a more recent event that still sticks to your muscle sheath memory like Elmer’s Glue.
I have a life thanks to therapy. It does work, if you’re ready to dig deep. Blessings to all, and may this never be visited on ar young person you know… Amy
Sharp Little Pencil 
McGuffy Ann
I understand this. I have written about this, too. One never gets over it, but one can learn to learn with it. It stays with you, as it becomes part of who you are. I agree that drugs will not resolve it. While you can never make sense of it, one does need to find a way to live with it.
Sharp Little Pencil
McGuffy, I find that the longer I go through therapy, the more that event, those series of events, are contained in a “bubble” – over there, not part of me any more, yet I can regard it from time to time, if only for the writing… sorry you identify with this so well, friend. Peace, Amy
mybeautfulthings
What a dark and powerful piece. The piñata metaphor is a haunting oxymoron. My, how I love your writing. 🙂
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks for catching that metaphor. It is truly filled with dark and twisty candies. Amy
Reader Wil
You are a very admirable woman. Good that you had the help of a therapist. I am glad that we are not our bodies which are abused, but our minds and spirits can not be broken. You are strong and determined to survive. I admire you. The poem is very powerful, impressive.
Sharp Little Pencil
Dear Wil, thank you for an inspiring comment. It’s true – there is a huge difference between being a victim and being a survivor. Victims carry the trauma around with them like tar in their guts… survivors have managed to get it outside them, and we are no longer carrying unearned guilt for THEIR misdeeds. Coming to see you now, and thanks again for a cogent comment. Amy
brian miller
a dark and painful reality you know…when i did counseling i worked with kids that hard been abused either physically, emotionally or sexually…it tore me up to hear things done to them…but we worked through…the use of the pinata strikes home amy…
Sharp Little Pencil
Brian, I shudder to think of the horrors you heard of from your youth… thank God, in a way, they were young enough to remember it, though, because then they can get help early. I have no doubt that, had my depression, etc., been treated earlier (my parents refused, knowing their dirty little secret might get out), I might not have had the 70s filled with drugs and booze. But then again, there is so much to write about, so that’s part of my therapy. Thanks, my friend. Glad you catch that pinata reference… Amy
ihatepoetry
Great poem, strong lady. You take the worst and come up with the best. Much love, mosk
artisticmilestone
Your poem is striking, very emotional and real. Your very creative with words and I love it.
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks for your visit and kind comment. I’ll stop by your blog now! Amy
Roger Green
always good, AMY
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks, ROGER.
kaykuala
Amelita, It’s amazing that there were good people who were with you that helped to bring out the horror and steer things back to normal. Read of cases where some just crumbled and didn’t get it over with. it has to be a brave lady, strong-willed to face it head-on and in due course to be in control – glad you did just that.Really glad you did, Ma’am!
Hank
Suzy
You are very brave for sharing your experience in the hope that others will benefit from how you move forward. God Bless.
Linda E.H.
Absolutely love the closing stanza.