Tag: adultery

Shadows with No Light

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetryLeave a comment
Credit: jezebel.com

 

You were seen downtown one Sunday morning hanging out at the local cafe’ 

Pretending to be part of the beautiful people in a tony town

 Hung over from a Saturday night of shallow dinner party dialogue

 Getting wasted on wine and secretly lusting after the host’s wife

 to  alleviate the ennui of suburban existence

Your companion is a farce masquerading as a woman “Who knows Who”

 When in reality she is merely a vapid vamp mirroring a myriad of other MLFs 

You fit well with the air kissing crowd, capable of crumbs for conversation

You feed each other tidbits and then fuck each other into oblivion 

Drown your demons if you dare

But heaven and earth will not be moved by your denial

No shifts will occur in the course of your creation

You’ll just descend further towards a self-created hell

 

Day 28. A trip to the dark side of suburbia. No apologies for the epithet. It seemed to fit the message..

Mistaken Identity

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry6 Comments

Credit: imgarcade.com

An All-American look

An A-Frame Shape

Ass-Kickin Abs

Strong-shouldered

Sleek-skinned

Strapping in Stride

Your Youth Yielded

to the Years spent Yearning

for Daring and Dastardly Dreams

Groping towards Goals of Disingenuous Grandeur

There is Little Left of your Lofty Life

The Face that once glimmered with hope

and turned many a maiden’s head

is but a sunken ship

Moored in the Muck

Wrinkled and Wretched

with the scars of brokeness

etched across your bow

The Aftermath

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry4 Comments

Credit: www.submit.manscostyle.com ( “A Wounded Heart” by Tim Dwyer)

 

In the dark recesses of my mind

I hear the gunfire of your wounds

Land mines of domestic destruction

Improvised explosives shrouded in verbal volleys 

Scattered shrapnel

Stinging pain from your  scoffs

Mocking my every move

 

In the dark recesses of my gut

I taste the heaving

My attempts to digest your vile invectives

your vicious vitriol that holds my virtues in a vise

 

In the dark recesses of my heart

I feel the agony of your aggression 

the abscess of your abandonment

 and the anguish of your annihilation

.

 

For those known and unknown who are experiencing abuse. Mine is past but the pain is sometimes present.

A Grifter’s Rap

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry5 Comments

Credit: gatesofpower.com

Would you ever really know if your beloved strayed?

Or would you believe that you’ve been duplicitously played?

His absences explained so charmingly

As you played your role so willingly

You hang on long for the children’s sake

As you think he still loves you

Those vows he would not break

But he did so again and again

Not always with another

But with the click of a pen

When at last he made the ultimate exit

That last gasp to leave

You thought it was with money

That he did deceive

To fall in with another was too hard to believe

Looking back on it now-it was so long ago

All those scenes so intense 

And his emotions: a mere pretense 

You realize SHE was his reason for love’s final blow

But no matter now, this memory is like vapor

A mischievous muse’s attempt at a silly old caper

The mind goes awry

No need to know why

He’s nothing but a blip in your mind’s eye

Journey to the Other Side

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Uncategorized7 Comments

Credit:  intentblog.com

At the time of the dismantling I used to wonder

used to sweat in desperation

used to be ensnared in your endless games of lashing out

 for  punishment of things that I did not do

for the person you thought I was

the one who punished you for her own guilt

At the time of the dismantling

I felt myself wasting away

sick with a loss of control over my own destiny (or so it seemed)

eager with a morbid curiosity about your private transgressions

At the time of the dismantling

I used to wish you would become a stranger to me

someone I would pass by on the street or the airport without notice

someone I would see by chance who didn’t bring me to the brink of madness

At the time of the dismantling

I wish I wouldn’t recognize you

to turn my head in instinct at your unwelcome presence

a witness to your lingering lurking

and latching yourself to people and places where I could be found

 

At the time of the rebuilding

I ceased to wonder

 became refreshed in renewal

no longer trapped, but free in my freedom

At the time of the rebuilding

I felt my self growing

a woman with curves and flesh

the mistress of my destiny

no longer curious but filled with awe at new love found

At the time of the rebuilding

you became unfamiliar

a transient that I passed by with ease

no longer on edge, existing on a different plane

At the time of the rebuilding

I no longer took notice of you

I see you on the street at a distance,

at peace with knowing that the long ago parting happened to someone else

 

Buried Truth

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry16 Comments

Credit: weheartit.com

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

What it means to be born from deceit

The lies they told themselves to protect you

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

Unconsciously rejected by the one who bore you

Lovingly accepted by the one who was betrayed

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

The secret kept from you until you were of age

You convinced yourself  that it didn’t matter anyway

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

Their union at last came undone, the past too much to bear

A slight shift in your world, one you could not even hear

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

You left them then, never to return again

 An anchorless  journey that continues today

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

Falsely sure of yourself and never whole

Flitting from place to place and woman to woman

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

Never quite trusting but always controlling

Hoarding your feelings, a collector of sins

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

The stain of  your beginnings remains with you still

A jagged edge, a dizzying precipice and a perilous fall

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

 Kellie gave us this one line today:

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

And this is what I created!

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#FWF Free Write Friday: Ponder this…

by Kellie Elmore

Hope’s Beginnings

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction14 Comments

This house has a story…what is it?

Image Credit: We Heart It

“Do you ever wonder what really happened in that house?”, Blake asked. They were sitting in the truck just moments after he and Julie had signed the purchase and sale on the former Stanton family property. Julie had grown up in these hills and was once close to Jeannie Stanton,  a childhood friend who disappeared one fall afternoon in their fifteenth year, never to be heard from again. Jeannie was one of seven children from that rag-ma-tag family where chaos and cracking heads ruled through the dirty deeds of their patriarch, Joe.  Jeannie’s mother was far from quiet herself, known to pull heavily on the tap at Smitty’s, the local bar where she worked serving drinks and other ‘amenities’ to the men from the local coal processing plant- long since closed and cleaned up. No one even knew for sure if all seven of the kids actually were Joe’s. The EPA finally did its job and the old brick campus had been successfully retrofitted and resurrected into  a world-class sound studio.  Famous musicians from across all genres recorded some of their best work in this forgotten corner of the state. Julia and Blake had become big hitters in attracting legendary acts to record and even stay in the area.

Blake, of course, had no idea of what to expect when he first entered Julie’s childhood world. They met in London, both working as sound engineers, honing their talent with the best of them. When Julie’s dad- an engineer and business man himself- bought up some of the old factory buildings from the government, he decided that some of them would work perfectly as recording spaces. Others he turned into research and development spaces. Soon he was attracting fervent interest from scientists keen on learning and creating new avenues into the world of sound.

On a return visit home with Blake last year, he and Julie had come across the abandoned property. Knowing its negative history had not stopped them from envisioning a place that would serve as a haven and respite for kid’s who were victims of abuse and neglect. Too many of the Stanton kids had become lost souls. Now that Julie had the means and connections to turn things around, she set her heart and mind on making it happen.

Just then, a rumbling sound came up from behind them. A fleet of contractor trucks loaded down with heavy equipment came roaring up the rough road. Blake planted  a kiss on Julie’s lips.  “Time to get to work,” she said.

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Another great gift from Kellie Elmore this week!

#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt

by Kellie Elmore

Just A Little Fury

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction12 Comments

Credit: lowtechgrrl.deviantart.com

WHY LEAVE ANYTHING

YOU THIEVING BASTARD?

Tammy Lynne spray-painted that question onto a piece of plywood, dragged it to the end of the driveway and leaned it against the mail post for all the world to see (well, at least the folks who screamed by in their cars and trucks along Route 481).

Tammy had returned home from her afternoon shift at the clinic only to discover that nearly the entire contents of the small cabin she shared with her husband Kevin had been removed.  He left the bed, her dresser, a few chipped dishes, dented pots and pans, the worn couch, her CD player and all of her music.

The walls were bare. All of the art work that had served as memorabilia from their backpacking trips abroad had vanished. The pieces were the only thing of value that they owned. Well, maybe the snow blower and the tools; they were gone too along with the desktop computer that Kevin’s parents gave them as an anniversary present last year. He had the audacity to even take that with him too. Luckily, she saved all of her important information on thumbnail drives. Including those friggin’ incriminating emails between him and that case manager at the hospital. Did Kevin really think she would be that ignorant not to notice how those two looked at each other at the last hospital fundraiser? He spent most of the night ignoring her. Humiliated,Tammy spent it nursing one too many drinks at the bar and fending off the paws of Kevin’s mentor, Phil Keeley. He was one of those docs with big egos and small brains who was constantly trying to get in every woman’s pants except his wife’s. Tammy was sure the night ended badly because when she woke up the next morning, Kevin was sleeping on the couch.

Good thing he had no clue where she kept her secret stash of Hendrick’s gin. The stuff was expensive and hard to find. But Bobby, the bartender down at the Newtowne Tavern, was able to score some for her last month and didn’t charge her for it. She would probably have to find a way to return the favor someday. And Tammy knew exactly what Bobby liked as payments for his good deeds. Heck, he was a hottie; she might even enjoy paying back that debt.

In fact, it was the Hendrick’s that inspired her work of art. She was two drinks down and working on her third, listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s  “Tuesday’s Gone” when the idea came to her. She found the plywood and paint in the shed. In her drunken stupor and the coming light, she tattooed her anger on a 10×12 sheet of pine.

*An older story that I found hiding on a piece of paper in one of my writer’s notebooks. Inspired by something I observed on a road trip last summer.

Enlightenment

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman15 Comments

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Credit: www.fotolia.com

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.
Mahatma Gandhi

When I round the curve in the road, my thoughts unexpectedly go back to her and that not so long ago time when she was the “other”. The past lingers for just a moment then disappears as the road straightens and I head for home.

Each week, I return to the space that provides solace and heat. A place in that not so long ago time that seemed to call my name. The road was dark then, the route unknown. Each visit an escape hatch from pain.

Perhaps I was conceited enough to believe that he would never leave-never mind deceive. Then we became another cliché. Middle-aged man leaves wife and kids for younger woman. How trite and how true.

The knowledge came in bits and pieces. An off-handed remark made by a close relative. Phone calls saying he needed to help a friend.  Concentrated text messaging during our son’s sports game. A trip out of the country that appeared to happen as an unplanned event.

Then he said her name and it became all too real. Well, you can’t put words back in a box once they’ve been hung in the air. I felt slayed. Chopped up. Diced into tiny pieces. Shattered like broken glass. Tossed into the trash.

And then we met. Quite by accident. On a cold, dark holiday eve. A face to her name. Polite exchanges and then an awkward and quick exit.

It is hard to hold your head up when you feel like you’ve been slapped in the face. It is hard to stand up straight when you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.

I needed to detox, to purge. So I took to the only path that would help peel the pain away. The space of healing energy and consolation.

Then she appeared once and again over time. In that sacred space. Ironically, it was easy to be gracious then; perhaps because she had cast him aside. Friends and relatives were aghast at my charitable demeanor while in her company. But it would have been too easy to take the low road. Did I really want or need to speak of him or treat her in a degrading way?

Certainly it would be simple to converse with someone in this way. Someone who had been naked with your husband. Easy to cause her discomfort or guilt. But I had moved on. Grown confident inwardly. Better to show healthy growth than to sow bad seeds.

Since then, there have been others with him. The door may have been a revolving one; and still could be if only in his mind. I need no “others”. I need only myself so that I may love and trust one other.

The sacred space is mine now. I share the energy with other souls bound for the glory of feeling grounded and balanced. We renew one another as we journey down our own paths; some curved others straight. Always honoring the light of one another.

“I use memories but I will not allow memories to use me.”

~  Deeprak Chopra

Address Unknown

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Uncategorized21 Comments

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I imagine one day that you will come clean. Look inside yourself and uncover the damage and pain that once was hidden and then slowly festered like an abscess.  I fantasize and visualize the scene. Your sincere apology for letting your wounds bleed out until they killed my trust. Your realizations of the love you lost. Your enlightened self-awareness of your sheer selfishness and self-absorption. Your chaste chagrin for your failure as a father. Your road to redemption and reconciliation regarding their relationship with you.

But the package remains sealed. Locked tight and unexamined. Returned to sender.

This one is as raw as it gets. It’s been a funky week where the poison of the past took up rent in my head.  Time for an eviction notice to be served!

free write friday kellie elmore

#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt