Day 2-Creativity and Pain-Today’s “poem should explore creativity as a healing salve, as a shield, as a weapon, or as a negotiation method to use when dealing with physical and/or psychological pain.”
Tears and Wine, Paper and Pen
She poured her pain onto the page
not caring that the tears she shed
fell onto the words to create
little pools swirling with black ink and salt.
She wrote around the occasional drops of wine,
leaving them tucked between the lines
like little Rorschach tests.
She wasn't herself anymore.
The woman she had been
had been absorbed
into the never-ending distress and frustration
of what she lived with.
When things were at their worst
that was when the Rage monster appeared.
It scared her when she let things go that far.
The loss of control was an indignity.
It meant apologies and self-condemnation
after the fact.
This was why she wrote...
to avoid the judgment, the disbelief, the recriminations,
the shame.
A bottle of wine, her favorite pen
and the pages bound together by wire,
her self-discovered therapy.
It did not matter
that in the morning
she would have a slight headache
from the crying and the alcohol,
and the words she had thought so brilliant
would be unreadable, even to her eyes.
What would matter
was that the pain would be gone
for awhile,
transferred from her Soul
and hidden from the World
in a dime store notebook.
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Who told?
ReplyDeleteOne who rejects help, this was a young wife's release. Temporary relief, temporary marriage.
And the rage grew.
One who has never felt this could never write this ......well done!
Thank you, Debi!
ReplyDeleteThat notebook must have glowed with all of the tears and dreams poured on it. :)
ReplyDeleteI think there were a lot of notebooks! LOL Thanks for commenting, Rommy!
DeleteJournals upon which we can spill our words of pain, our tears and a little wine are worth their weight in gold, they hold our fears and our hopes and keep them safely bound.
ReplyDeleteAnd, hidden! LOL Some people worry about their porn being found when they die, I told a friend to come get my journals and burn them! Hahahaha
DeleteSo many colors: black ink and wine that for some reason I see red (sometimes made pink by salty tears, or swirly by pen on paper). I love the way she pours her pain and rage out as words, puts them on paper and the combination soothes her soul... brilliant.
ReplyDeleteThe best journaling wine is a nice, dry red. You can still taste it after your nose gets stuffy from the crying. Thank you for reading and and loving it!
DeleteAh Sharon---so vivid and true. I've filled many and many a dime store notebook like that--and the illegible parts often read truer and clearer than the actual words. Really well-done.
ReplyDeleteThank you! We all have stashes of them, don't we?
DeleteWow..beautiful exploration of pain and healing. Thank you for sharing this poem
ReplyDeleteThank you very much, Rose!
DeleteWow..beautiful exploration of pain and healing. Thank you for sharing this poem
ReplyDeleteWow...really powerful words and emotions....hope it got better for her :D XXX
ReplyDeleteThanks, Gina! I like to hope she moved on or broke through.
ReplyDeleteSharon, I am in awe. I have no other words.
ReplyDeleteI am humbled at your words, Eliora! Thank you for taking the time to read mine.
DeleteI've said, and always say, you have a very clear writer's eye, Sharon. This is another example of how right I am. And I do love being right. =P
ReplyDeleteThanks for all the encouragement, Ben! I feel like I am scraping some of the rust away.
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