The Seismic Shock

The Seismic Shock
January 31, 2012.
Just after midnight.
(The devil loves the dark.)
The jolt was nor recorded
on any earth-bound
earthquake
monitoring device.
But it registered at close to a ten
or more
on my own personal ricter scale.

Pornography.
Such a fancy-shmancy word
for dispicable deeds.
Porn.
Much more appropriate a word.
A four-letter word
of the dirty deed type.

He was watching.
Moving porn.
He says he cannot remember what.
"2 people having sex.
Porn.
It's all the same."
He won't say more.
He says he dozed off
in the middle.
And that is suppose to be comforting?
I know he won't say
because he's hiding
to protect himself.
That's what he does.
"Gay porn," the whispers speak to my mind.
And I cannot conot compete.
Not that I could with any sort,
anyway.

The seismic shock that hit,
when I saw what he was trying to
 hide,
knocked down every part of me...
...but one.
My FAITH stands
still.
Other faceades
only a few walls
still sway
in after-shocks that hit
nearly every day.

There is no part of me
left steady standing;
But the construct of FAITH.
Strong and firm, steady and still
             stands apart.

Upon closer inspection...
deeper pondering
I realize...
I come to understand.

This man should never have had the
                     POWER
to destroy me in far under an
hour.

I gave it him.
I trusted in the arm of the flesh.
I built most of me
on our marriage.

My FAITH, though,
built by inhuman hands,
supports and joists and all that important build-y stuff:
sunk deep into THE ROCK.

And so I see.
I need to rebuild me
with supports and joists and all that important build-y stuff
sunk deep in The Rock.

I thought I had,
honestly.
For, you see,
this is not my first
earthquake.

But apparently,
I did not sink deep enough
or connect profoundly enough
to The Rock
to be swayed, but not broken
by a seismic shock
of mega-proportions.

And the whispers urge me
to build more carefully.
I certainly intend to!
But just right now...
I'm just trying, right now...
to clean up the mess
of me
in my little nothing world.

For what he, my hubby,
and you
can't see
is the crumbled structures.
The shattered glass.
The brokeness
inside me.

He fusses, "Don't you see me trying?"
And I feel to hang my head
and whisper, "Just like every time
you do wrong... but it doesn't stick.
You don't KEEP trying."
But he wouldn't hear,
because he wouldn't want to hear.
Just like me.

You see...
we are one.

His deed now...
was my deed long ago.
He didn't care.
Wouldn't have cared.
But I still did wrong.
So now it's come back to me
in the most painful way possible
thus far.

And I wish
I had always been
a different me.
For then,
the one we are
would be different,
too.


POST-Post Note
I meant to share this immediately after the Shame post, but forgot.  Sorry.  I hope you appreciated it somehow.

Hurt to Blind the Pain

Hurt to Blind the Pain

I just want to pull my hair
out at the roots
And stare at the mass,
lay it on the grass.
Notice the contrast.
Brown and grey
on brown and green.

I just want to scratch
and bruise and cut
me.
To make places of hurt
ON me,
to take my focus from
the pain
IN me.

I just want to bleed.
to watch the drips
drop.
To feel the warm life
fall out & hope
that it'll take
the pain
away.

How could you wound me
thus?
How could you look on another
and lust.
Cheat.
Then lie.
I just want my feelings for you
to die.

Oh, how you hate me.
Let me count the ways.

You hate me in the morning
when you make food for everyone,
including the dog,
but not me.

You hate me bright and early
when you neglect prayer and scripture reading
saying that you think I would be angry
so you don't dare.

You hate me just before you go to work
when you avoid me
saying nary a word to me
and leave without speaking
to me.

You hate me when you return
at night
when you say not even one word.
Just do what you do
and think nothing of me.

You hate me through the night
by not asking to be near me.
By not "daring" to touch me.
You truly do
hate me
In actions AND
words.

You hate me
with every puff you take.

You hate me
with every curse you hurl
at me.

You hate me
with every click you make
that leads to a view
of another's body
you view.

You
hate
me.

I
love
you.