The Guilt

The big pretence
walking on floors wafer thin
and so
I imagined dancing, whirling around
ecstatic
just as if our lives were
filled with perfect magic

my laugh
false
brittle
trailing on the wind....

us so afraid
the long sharp tongue
lashing out like a whip
the rages
bouncing off of walls and ceilings
so that the house constantly pulsed
with the threat of a storm

I thought staying
staying tethered
was the glue that held the family together

the stinging heat from a slap
the sound of the slamming door
yet still I stayed -
stealing the joy from childhood

now
grown - up children
at times,
their sad, sad eyes

and always
their search for peace
that goes unrecognised

I see the damage done.

(c) Jane Habgood All rights reserved