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Everything's Not About You, You Know (post-therapy)

by Lisa Marie Brodsky

I don’t want everything to be about me. (italicized)

But it is and I can’t escape the swamp where
the little girl in the red jumper has dumped me.
She wants to be loved.
Not your love, but the love of the woman with
pixie-fine hair and a pink fuzzy shirt to nestle into.
The love of a big push on the swing. The love
of a step away from the daughter.

Your steps have been infantile, counting the number
of tiles between us, the number of breaths.
Scoured. Few.
And I never learned to walk; I have had your hand
to lead me through mazes and shopping malls this whole time.

I dream of cars roaring toward me every night. The seat is
empty and the wheel takes a sharp left right into the couch
where you first talked of helplessness and the frustrations
of raising a little girl.


Posted on 11/25/2004
Copyright © 2022 Lisa Marie Brodsky

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kyle Anne Kish on 12/09/04 at 06:42 PM

Lisa, this poem had a powerful impact on me. Your words really speak out to the inner child in all sexually abused children. The emotional turmoil runs high in this piece ... as it should. Thanks for the read. :) ~~ Kyle Anne

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