Sitting on a porch swing
at her country home
I never saw a face
that looked so all alone.
She gazes into space
her eyes are far away
I wonder where she is
she isn’t in today.
I see a little girl
in the woman’s eyes
a hurt and lonely child
I hear her softly cry.
The pain of dreams now lost
the scars that still remain
when I look at her picture
all I can see is pain.
She captures my heart
I want to hold her tight
I run to save the woman
the girl hides in fright.
The girl plagues the present
with all her musty fears
if I could console the girl
I’d end the woman’s tears.
by Jeanne Marie
I am a face first, front sliding, full-fledged codependent.
Stop signs mean STOP but that translates to codependents as, “Go ahead, I double-dare you.”
If your lights dim, don’t think about it too much, just light a damn candle.
…live with an active alcoholic or addict and find inner peace; without Al-Anon.
…our painful past loses its devastating effect.
…plan vacations, instead of permanent departures.
Mommy is on special medication right now because she is just a little crazy.
A helpful therapist does not pressure you to leave your man, she does confuse your issues with hers, she lies to you, but she also trusts you with her cell phone number because you have managed to cross her boundary lines. That phone number could be a life saver, especially if you’re driving cross-country after an attempted escape back home (you ran to your dysfunctional family, who you are now running away from), while taking a new anti-anxiety drug which your therapist prescribed, hydroplaning during a torrential rainstorm, which doesn’t even count because you’re crying so hard that you can’t see the through the windshield anyway. It also doesn’t help that you can’t zip the jeans that were too big when you started the journey because you have already blown up from the side effects of your new wonder drug.
It would be comforting to have her direct phone number in case you end up halfway home and forget which direction you want to go in, home or home. If you get lost or finally crack up, mentally or automobilely, it would be nice to have a caring professional to help arrange your placement. “No she’s not crazy; she just needs her meds tweaked.”
…as soon as you learn the rules, he changes them.
I gave him my fifteen-year-old virginity. That very night, I told him he had to marry me now and he said okay. The next day, he dumped me for a thirteen-year-old, blonde haired beauty.
Don’t waste the Styrofoam cups.
Gratitude will allow you to forget most of his faults…
…so when she looks into a mirror she won’t see the woman she used to be.
Book also available at:
and on your iphone or ipad reader