You are intimately involved in our lives
Without knowing who we are
Except what you see
Not only through
Your own filter
But in a tiny sliver
Of time and context
You experience surface interactions
And presume
They are indications
Of what went before
When even if you knew anyone back then
You did not know what went on
Behind closed doors
I navigate dragons and demons
On a daily basis
By necessity
Because I love fiercely
And choose to tap into the purity
Welcome into my home
The whirlwind of chaos
That threatens to unravel me
Because she is in need
Because she is my mother
Because I am more than this
And despite everything
I choose to see the upheavals of my life
As opportunities for my soul
To become more grounded and elevated than ever before
A beam of powerful Light
At the center of the storm
Love
Unaffected by the ravages of violence
Which you say never happened
Which they said
Wasn’t happening
Even as it was inflicted
Which was perhaps the worst violence of all
Negation and erasure
Which you repeat
Through your projections and assumptions
Adding injury to insult
And insult to injury
Accepting as truth
Revisionist history
That paints me
As sensitive
With no particular cause
And a million buttons
That nobody installed
That just get pushed randomly
making her the victim
Which she always was
Before the dementia
Which you ascribe as the reason
For her behavior
Despite the fact that
Strike and Crumble was the tactic of choice
Forever
A crime with no perpetrator
The narcissists at the center
And when you unwittingly ascribe
To this pattern
You become yet another player
Fanning the flames
Of a very old story
That has threatened to destroy me
Repeatedly
Leaving me feeling
Unsafe
In my own home
Which I nonetheless
Must find the power
To reclaim as my sanctuary
©2018 by Loolwa Khazzoom. All rights reserved. No portion of this article may be copied without author’s permission.
