Broken
07/12/2014 06:33 p.m.


I don't work right. 

I guess it's what happens
When the people that made you,
The people who pledged
To care for you,
Place you in situations
That were never intended 
To be places 
Where children should be:

At 10, 
In the path of an open hand
That breaks a nose;

At 6, 
Caring for an infant 
I could barely carry.

At 2, 
Eating whatever I was able to
Reach in the fridge, 
Which wasn't always much
And, likely, never nutritious. 

At 8 months old,
Screaming in a scalding hot bath,
Terrified to get in the water -
According to family lore, 
It took my grandmother
Years to repair that. 

As an infant, 
Left for hours in my own feces
Until the smell of it 
Became my only (disgusting) comfort. 

These instances
Of such severe misplacement
Were full of potential
Later-in-life tragedies
Which have, to some degree,
Unfolded in some of my most
Uncomfortable dysfunctions. 

But worse is the misplacement
Of a young child's hands
On father's pleasure,
And all the ways he set it up
So that I would feel 
It was the most natural thing in the world. 

Until I realized it wasn't. 

Until I said no, and
Would have fought to my death
Had he pressed this issue 
When he approached me at 8
And again when I was 12,
For more. 

And now, when I am 51,
Unable to let go of old love
Because I felt peace there,
Unable to accept new love
From a perfectly good man
Because of the ways
My father broke me...

Well, the truth is,
I don't work right,
And it appears I never will,

Though I owe a huge debt of gratitude
To those other family members 
And dear, dear friends, 
Who have always loved me, 
Who continue to scoop up
All the broken pieces
And have been trying to assist 
In my repair, 
To get me to some degree or other
Of functionality; 

Though I have a mosaic heart
The size of a universe,
Interlaced with precious metals
Meant to keep it glued together, 
Blessed by a capacity for love
That defies the past,

I've always been a little crooked,
Sort of like the way
My nose healed after that blow,

And...well...

I don't work right.

It appears I never will.

I am currently: Disheartened
Listening to: Retreat