Codependency
Loved you until I was drained, empty
nothing left of the love as I recall,
refuse to lose my mind, so it is over
bruised brain won’t survive another fall.
Driven quite mad, aching for your touch
spirit crushed by your negative weight
splintering my weakened, damaged bones.
Set free? Set free? Shit, it is too late.
Too late to be an innocent little girl
too late to chase the passions of 17
too late to write that frigging book
but all my floors are sparkling clean.
My womb has left, cut from my body
so, too late to be a better mother
loved ones from my hands I dropped
always ran, hid beneath the covers.
Some other day, some other love
some other life, any but my own
thought I had time to find happy
old came first, please leave me alone.
Hopes shattered and then returned
laid…
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Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
Sweetly written
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Thank you. Bitter sweet to the end.
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Never too late to write the friggin book, Jeanne Marie. But I know the poem makes sense.
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I almost changed that line, because I am writing the book, always, but the day I wrote the poem it felt that way, so I let it be. I will write with my last breath…it’s not even a choice. My head would explode otherwise. You made me smile. Thank you for reading me!
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I’m glad to hear this and somehow not surprised 🙂
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Thank you!
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