Safety in my Chair

February 22

SAFETY IN MY CHAIR

Sometimes I have to sit with my knees tucked up under my chin.  My feet can’t touch the floor at these moments.  I hug my legs to me, I feel contained but somehow adrift in my chair.  I center my mind on breath and pulse.  Pure fear flits and flutters while I gain my composure.  When I feel safe enough to put one foot down, then the other, and connect with the world again, I am leaving home to embark on this earthly trek.  The journey is there for me every day but some days I curl up in my chair.

Complement your feet with your shoes.

*

Patricide

I never killed my father.

Why finish a job that

someone is completing all on his own.

It’s not that I didn’t wish him dead;

I did and do for that matter.

Don’t misunderstand me,

I wish him no harm,

It’s just that he is like a creature so tortured

that he is nothing but a danger and a misery.

Left to live he is a hazard to everyone

he has contact with, an agony to live inside.

What can I wish for him,

but departure and rest,

something he can never give to himself.

I don’t plot, don’t scheme,

I only know; know in part,

the terrible lie he lives

and hurt he drags from place to place

Acting like it is not there and nothing matters;

let’s just get by.  So, if he is not dead he should be.

He is the embodiment of the hurtful impotent god

and I don’t kill that man

but I kill the image, perish that thought.

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life