Sometimes I wonder…
What did they say
When it was over?
After my father threw me out
At 16 years
Left my things on the porch
Stuffed in bags
Because his wife decided
She couldn’t live
With the ugly truth:
He’s not a good man.
A testament
And bloody spectacle
Of pain and denial,
She had to choose:
What is right and
What is easy
For her.
Her daughter grown up
25 years at home
Barking like a little dog
Who chased and nipped,
Out to bite a child.
Out to destroy
What was already in pieces.
What could they say?
After screams and threats
Running to gather
What was left
Her massive body blocking
the door, spitting
“I don’t want to see your
Ugly face again”
I couldn’t help but laugh
At her bulging eyes
And terror-red face
As if I was the one
Committing the crime.
I wonder what they did
After I was gone,
The attic full of one new ghost.
Did they sit in tense silence?
Did they listen for footsteps
That belonged to no one?
DId they hear a knock on the door
In the middle of the night
When shivers run down your spine?
You thought I would be silent forever.
That I would slip by and away
Until the day you decided
To want me again.
You thought you could cage me,
That you could trap me
Still, buried, forgotten.
But I know those ghosts in the attic
And they don’t stay silent for long.
Too Far From the Sun 
You are so much the better for having gotten out, regardless of how hastily and ill-advised throwing you out was. They threw you out and look where you landed and how far you have come. They will never share in your joy because of their actions and who they are and it is their loss.
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