Killing Time

I don’t know when I gave up trying
to make sense of it all, sometimes
I can’t even put into words
how it felt back then in those days that is.
sometimes I get lost in memories
trying to find reasons
but there are none just the knowledge
that it’s over and I went through
a dozen years of hurtfulness and somehow
came out on the other side semi-intact
except for my sleep and my dreams
of helplessness and total frustration
and anger now in these dreams the houses
all seem to have so many rooms but no
damn doors no doors to open or close
or lock or escape and he just won’t leave
and the cops are useless and there is
no protection that I would dare
and these are just dreams dear Mary.
what really happened was worse by far
because I told the girls when I say go
you run and they did and they ran
in their nightgowns and yanking their
pillows bulging with clothes through
the field in the night to the road
to a house to a phone God they ran
like good little girls in the night
my good little girls and I had to stay
behind just long enough so they could go
so long enough so they could run away.
because a knife is truly sharp
and rifles really shoot in the dark
as he howls like a wolf in the woods
and the cop grabs my wrist and
say’s what the hell is that and
I say that’s him I told you it’s him and
he calls for backup and pushes me down
on the boards of the porch that night and
he pulls his gun and the red and
white lights go ‘round and ‘round and
the howling goes on and on to this day
and he still has the balls to send birthday
cards when he finds us he finds us ‘cause
it ain’t no crime to be crazy they say.
sometimes I’ll be right in the middle
of something, and a blast from the past
will come back-lash and I’ll remember and
‘member and live some moments again
right now and I’ll cry right now in the kitchen
or store or garden or car ‘cause I couldn’t cry
then I guess I had to be brave
and I feel very sorry that those bad things
happened to me I didn’t deserve them
they shouldn’t have now I guess I know.

Mary Ann Hazen is a 38 yr. old mom/wife/full-time student/medical transcriptionist/poet/painter who has recently had the good fortune to be published in the following magazines:The Blind Flier, Issue #14 ,Creative Ooze , Poetry Issue #4,SNAKESKIN poetry webzine-Issue #27,Womenfolk-A Gathering Place for Women ,Poetic Voices Jan 1998,Temporary Exhibition Eight - Maryann Hazen,Sin título ,TUA Online and Poetry Magazine

Email: Mary Ann Hazen

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