It’s Raining Outside

It’s raining outside.
He stares out the window counting each drop.
The splash,
Is how he marks the passage of time.

In his head,
The ghosts are arguing again.
Shouting matches over which image
To display prominently,
Proudly,
Across his mind’s eye.

It doesn’t matter.
To him,
Every image hurts.
A brutal display of violence
That to this day
He still works through.

He confesses
That he feels like a failure.
It’s been twelve years.
He should be over this.

The psychologist scribbles frantically
Along the lines of a legal pad the color of daisies.
She says to him,
It’s been a lot of years,
But longer still has been the journey
That brought you here;
To this moment.
And it will take a lot of years
To untie the cables
Between you
And a foundation full of landmines.

She says,
You.
Are.
Beautiful.
Bravely breaking generational cycles of violence.
You dawn swords and armor,
Charge headlong into hordes of demons,
Rebuking ghosts,
And waging war on the lies
Instilled in you.
All for the sake of your wife
And three beautiful girls.

It has been a lot of years.
And though you may never
Fully recover,
Whatever the fuck that means,
Your family
Will never know the pain
You’ve endured.

They’ll never come to me and ask why.
Why was he so cruel?
Or
Why couldn’t he love me?

From you they will know
Love
And they will carry that love
To their children’s children’s children.

And it takes everything in me
Not to say
Stop being so impossible with yourself.
So instead I offer this.

Be kind,
Be gentle,
And love yourself.
I know it’s hard,
But you are not alone.

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About St Basil Z Fish

Curator of the strange and incredibly awkward. A rambling writer with the misguided notion he has something to say. His only redeeming qualities are his wife and children.
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