How do I admit...

 to myself,

to someone, 

anyone?

her...

Love, 

compassion, 

disappointment,

unfortunate

long standing,

sudden

suspicions confirmed, 

profound hurt, 

bewilderment,

shock, 

loss!

Why?

In daze of

cacophonic dialogues

playing over and

over,

head stunned

by reality of lies...

Lies,

clumsily fails

describing

the rot,

unwillingly

becoming

another lie.

Attempting

deep

breath

air stuck

in my throat

collides with

choked back

tears,

jaw breaking

would-be

screams,

vomit,

regurgitated

Herculean

marrow gnawing

family vestiges.

Feeling,

seeing

such 

vulgar,

savage truth,

exposing

her lies,

crafty malice, 

manipulation,

fraudulent,

extorting,

victimizing victimhood

addicted;

disoriented, 

self-centered,

self-destructing,

embracing

self imposed

Dantesque inferno.

Decades fueled

operatic melodrama,

still dark

downward spiraling

libretto,

failing permanent

light-seeking, 

willing,

contemporary

transparent 

adaptation.

Scenes 

repeating

themselves,

déjà-vu sequences

aiming to

drill into,

flooding cell corners,

frenziedly rushing

to usurp

my brain...

Tangled

double Uroborus

that will only end

when 

one of them

is gone;

her former

lover

matter

of-factly

said to me... 

She is,

definitely,

her mother's

child-daughter-woman;

no longer

a doubt

about it!

I admit it... to myself.

© Alicia M B Ballard

Dec. 29, 2010

Photo: Mine ©

"Cleansing Ritual"