Paralyzed by emotions, dismal visions haunt my eye’s memory
Faces in plates, probing hands of strangers, and the smell of pee.
Fairy letters under wet pillow laid, hoping they will set me free.
A veil of melancholy wraps me like a cocoon as dread is calling.
Our neighbor plucks buckshot from the leg, her husband’s shot.
The smell of Lysol emits from her wrinkled mouth, such an odd lot.
Insides stolen from abuse, dehydration leaving only pitted bones.
Hiding food in underwear for I can’t eat as the vultures are too near,
God give me grace to make it past another haunted holiday year.
by Joni 12/12/19
The holidays are hard for Adult Children of Alcoholics and others for a variety of reasons. This poem is written and dedicated to my best friend Janette and all who have sadness over the holiday season. May blessings bring warmth, love, grace, and forgiveness to those who have harmed your hearts. I love each of you as well as my new friends in the community.