between the lines

if you need to write, but can’t write what’s close to your heart–it makes it hard.

part of me doesn’t want to bother

closing things up deep inside is the American way

i don’t know if i failed as a parent

in some sense, you can’t fail what you didn’t do

here i am talking about failure again

i need a cookie

how important is it, really?

i don’t feel badly because decisions had to be made

most of the time i followed God

or instinct

see the disobeying part is me tired and wanting a piece of the pie

at that point becomes implosion time (hospital, hospital, who’s got the hospital)

but the decisions the directions the points on that timely map…

that’s all done with the spirit

not calculations and never predictions on what’s best for me

something some direction either feels right, or it feels wrong

so maneuver through this right left maze

to be right here

i loved my son and i loved my daughter

i loved my grandma

who only gave definitions to choices but did not make them for me

not ever she wanted no credit for my train wreck

i want to say here’s the thing, but there’s no thing

except that you can decide not to decide, that’s the third option

right, left, or “what was the question again?”

so we have the need to express angst

and the dancing around it because are really not free to express angst

i feel alone, will give you that

but i can conjure up the missing cat in my mind if really need it

don’t know if anyone else can do that

make memories so fresh they are immediate

i almost never visit the true memory–use sparely

why? well when you do it will enforce that memory like it was yesterday

and then all those yesterdays sort of crowd around you so you can’t see today

i like to see today

it isn’t live in the moment–it’s exist where you are

where that right left dotted line of decisions has led you to (horrible sentence structure)

and to be there without regrets then you revisit the past

but see, i can and i might decide to do that

just a few select junctions

not because here isn’t good

it isn’t bad but it feels like question marks are buzzing around my head like bees

and at the same time like every answer is right here

no more puzzles no more worries no more diving into sleep

because the brain is so busy and you cold cock it–pull the plug

that’s how i sleep every night

i decide when and turn off

can’t remember the last time i drifted off into “normal” sleep

i turn my body off like a machine

and i have calculated everything

kind of just want to live now and make happiness

the spirit knows there is work to finish but am going to go at it in a flurry

and then i will have that indulgent time that everyone—well,

almost everyone—those who don’t SEE me—know me well

think my life is already in a state of nothing matters

but i am so deep

buried in this map

right left and it all flows like a river

downhill is for disasters —-in….always in

what has opened for question is that i have no respect from my son

doesn’t color everything–would be a fool to allow that–but

has me making wider gulfs betwixt ‘their way’ and my way

ready to throw the towel in on justice if can’t pull the sights around

left and right must be equal, not for balance but for true direction

i barely understand that myself, it doesn’t translate

what am saying is ….

we break up our existence into tocks

always filled with the whole

reality is i am not obligated to be interesting when i unload

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2 thoughts on “between the lines

  1. Don MacIver, RPA, Writer, Editor, Author, Poet

    How you explore memory is most intriguing here Eileen. My memory seems quite subjective and the more unpleasant or seemingly insignificant moments in my life seem to quickly dissipate as vapor would under the right circumstances. I am prone to anxiety and I instinctively avoid certain triggers…don’t back me into a corner over time nor menacingly stand me before a mirror!

    It’s funny how our children figure into much of our reflection, in my case one who visits on occasion and the other unseen through avoidance for nearly fourteen years. I question my actions and decisions fourteen years ago and I guess so does he. When you ask a child to make certain decisions knowing full well those decisions would alienate either friends or family you believe that his choice would invariably favour the latter though again I was wrong it would seem…

    Do we put the fallout down to uncategorized failure? Our own or theirs? I never was very good at reading between the lines…too many assumptions for my liking. Grey (areas) is so ambiguous…I much rather black and white if not in the boldness of colour.

  2. eebrinker

    yea me too…then i hear the voice of an excellent therapist from years ago….”shades of gray, Eileen …shades of gray. it’s never all black and white.” which i respected him, and so had to take his view under account. i think there has to be some definition….we have to have something to stand on. i have no answer to the hurt caused by kids, Don…and am sorry you have gone through that, because i think you’re a good man and any child would be missing out on a lot to not accept guidance from a person with your good temperament, humor, and wisdom. the memories will have to do, but then are banished when cause a stab of pain … loss. because those are good memories and i should get to love them and smile at the past. yet brings such pain when i do, i can hardly breathe.

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