Pink Girl, RED Woman

RED Rage - RED terror ... RED love, RED safe haven, RED warmth and peace

RED blushing shame ... RED deliverance, REDemption

RED sin ... RED grace

RED Blood - RED birth ... RED death... RED sunrise - resurrection; new life

RED Heart broken, RED pain ... RED healed, restored, RED thriving

In the RED ... RED plenty and generosity - RED purse, RED pantry - full

RED Desert Sand - dry and barren ... RED hope, RED Sturt Desert Pea - lush and blossoming

RED Roses - beguiling, RED deception ... RED Geranium - honest, RED joy and laughter

Poems of Brokeness

The Jungle
So much inside, wanting release.
So many words and thoughts and feelings unsaid.
They jumble around,
they swarm and attack -
with confusion, with pain

... with a weight so heavy it is hard to bear.

I strain my face, my heart toward heaven.
My hoarse throat tries to speak.
But the words don't come,
they stick to the roof of my mouth,
they coil around into tight circles -
that I haven't the strength to undo.

This feels like madness.
Can I place at the cross this mess? How?
Where can I find sense? Where can I find meaning?
I search and search, but end up more entwined.


Incline your ear to me O Lord.
Unravel the confusion.
Let me walk with you in this jungle,
until I can see again,
the beauty of the garden.


Psalm 69¹
Save me, O God,
for the waters have come up to my neck.
² I sink in the miry depths,
where there is no foothold.
I have come into the deep waters;
the floods engulf me.
³ I am worn out calling for help;
my throat is parched.
My eyes fail,
looking for my God.
(Psalm 69 Looking for You - Sons of Korah)

China Cup
I remember joy.
I remember the tenderness of my heart.
There was so much room to love many.
Things were so simple.
I was so free.

How did it come to this;
this self loathing?
This fear?
No longer able to trust.
No longer able to love freely.
Like a china cup full of cracks
- it won't take much to break me into pieces.

Desperately trying to hold things together.
One harsh word and I am scattered.
Pieces lost along the way,
I can no longer gather them all up.

Pieces of me are missing,
this china cup leaks.
Faulty.


Maybe
Maybe it is my fault.
Maybe it is me.
Maybe if I didn't point the finger, didn't stand up for what I believe.
Maybe if I kept my mouth shut, if I kept quiet and still.
Maybe if I just let things lie, didn't rock the boat
and swallowed down the bitter pill

Maybe if I had loved more.
Maybe if I had complained less.
Maybe if I had just let things slide and worked harder to forget.
Maybe if I had been perfect, if I had worked harder and passed the test.
Maybe if I had asked for nothing and expected even less.

Maybe it was my fault,
Maybe it was me.
Maybe I deserved it all,
who would want to live with me?




'Kindness'
Your 'kindness', is like salt and vinegar rubbed into my weeping wounds.
Your 'gifts and flowers', a cruel display of a love not mine.
Your 'thoughtfulness', has all the cunning of a bribe.
Your 'openess', a sick game.
Your 'dreams', a twisted unreality.
Your 'affection', a slap in the face.

This perfect charade, so well played,
even you're believing in your charm.

This foolish heart softens.
My mind is carried on the fragile wings of hope ...
I settle in your hands.
Poisoned darts fall thick and fast,
Bewildered, I find myself crushed again by the sick reality of ... abuse.

Coming to terms with Abuse

"It is hard for me to admit that my relationship is abusive. It seems somehow too harsh a word to use - but since I have started using it and started to look back on my marriage for signs of it - it seems to rear its ugly dark head, where-ever I look. It scares me. It is ever so subtle and ever so overt. It is confusing, because it is mixed up with happier memories and feelings of love. It feels somehow disloyal and unkind to point it out. There is also the fact that there are degrees of it to a certain extent probably in every relationship.

It also seems as though I am somehow avoiding my own faults - by focusing on his. It becomes a giant in my mind- also confusing, am I making more of it, than I should? Or have I spent a huge amount of time covering it up, hiding it, ignoring it, placating it, avoiding it, denying it - to myself? Why? You have to survive and keep living somehow.

Is there any hope that things could ever change? I find myself feeling sorry for him -as though it is some illness, or something he can't help. It is certainly the symptom of his own misery - again, this makes it confusing. Makes me feel bad for making an issue of it, or expecting him to be accountable. How can I hold it against him? I feel guilt - for the grief and misery I will put him through, now that I am no longer prepared to live with grief and misery.

Weird. How did it get so mixed up? Why can I not see this clearly for what it is? For when I look - it's everywhere, pervading every part of our relationship. The mix of terror, confusion, deep piercing hurt, anguish, grief, uneasiness, fear, mistrust, humiliation, determination to survive - make it work. All this mixed with moments of love, joy, hope - tentative hope. Feelings of 'this is how it should be', 'why isn't it like this always?', 'He does care', 'he doesn't really mean those things', ‘he does admit he was wrong'. 



Then the hope and trust is shattered - again. The roller coaster ride continues. Nothing has really changed.

Gradually the trust is eroded. Gradually not all the pieces can be put back together. Gradually a taller, thicker, wider wall is built, to protect.


Vulnerability is no longer possible.


Words of love, affection, affirmation - gradually lose their meaning as the hypocrisy becomes clearer and clearer. They can no longer be believed, trusted. As hope is proved false again and again. There is nothing left but despair. The most laughably trivial things will bring back that stupid spark of hope. A cup of tea, a kind word, a shared dream. Maybe it's possible? Maybe things will be better now? Insidious- hope. The eternal optimist. Willing to hide the obvious reality.


Yet somehow not so obvious. How could I have let this go on and on? I thought I was being loving, forgiving, full of grace. Pretending it isn't there has only made it worse.




There is for some reason great shame attached. When someone else talks about the abuse, I immediately feel my marriage and he are under attack and I want to spring to the defensive. It also hurts to admit it. And someone else pointing it out, makes me face this hurt. That is scary. If it is faced up to and brought too much out into the open - I can't carefully package it away. It makes me concerned for him and I want to protect him and hide his faults from the judgment of others. Whether the other is right or not.

Such a weird mix of jumbled feelings."