A text from Krusti’s phone;
“It’s Paul, please answer.”
I translate;
Hi mum, I need to see you
to offer hollow reassurance;
to speak of love and great futures;
to grovel and apologise.
I will offer you the richest slice
of my phoney dream;
I will promise you unbuilt castles
and fruit that I shall never pick;
I will say whatever I must
to make you jump,
and if my well-planned words
don’t persuade you to empty your wallet
into my outstretched hand,
I will find another way.
I pick up the phone
A light pressure from my thumb
closes off the power.
the sun sets.
my candle glows dim,
painting a subtle tint on the wall.
I sit on the floor, writing and listening
to the sounds of the town.
I hear Paul talking to someone outside.
the doorbell rings.
there’s no pause in the rhythm
of fingers on keys.
Paul speaks to someone who agrees
that I don’t appear to be in.
His companion is only half right;
I am in, but
I don’t appear.
The Daily Post #Jump
©Jane Paterson Basil
hopefully he does not have a key to let himself in…
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No – I live in a block of flats where we are not supposed to hand out keys without good reason.
If he walks into the building behind another resident, and knocks on my door, the police have told me I should ring them.
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that sounds safe and secure.
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It has some distinct disadvantages, in the form of neighbours with no lives and no imaginations. They’re like extractor fans, sucking in gossip and releasing it into the air, to blow onto all who pass.
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get yourself a disguise when you go out….hahahaha
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I’ve been given special permission to exit by a side door. The supervisor here is totally on my side – she experienced something remarkably similar to what I’m going through
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“His companion is only half right;
I am in, but
I don’t appear.”
Oh! That is most excellent!
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Thank you! I thought it would add a bit of humour to this depressing poem 🙂
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I didn’t find the poem depressing. I found it courageous, actually. And a very hard thing to do.
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Thank you. I don’t feel brave – I’m past caring. I can’t take the horror, or his nastiness any more. I won’t run away – I’ll ignore him. In a couple of days I’ll probably switch the light on in the evening, so he’ll know I’m here.
If he survives, he may learn that in order to reach me he must make it worth my while.
I’m still afraid he may die, but my presence can’t save him.
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If he survives, he may learn that in order to reach me he must make it worth my while. I’m still afraid he may die, but my presence can’t save him.
There’s a LOT of wisdom in them there words, Jane. ❤
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I’ve just noticed it reads like a poem. I’m beginning to think I’ve forgotten how to write prose 🙂
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Stick to your guns Jane !! Such a powerful and courageous statement xoxo
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Iy doesn’t feel that way – it just feels like a natural progression.
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Once the child grows up he insists that he is an adult. But will you ever stop being a mother? You know the nastiness waiting beyond the shut door, but did you find it easy to turn a deaf ear?
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Eassier than you may expect. I’ve suffered years of abuse from my son. 3 years ago he robbed me of every penny I owned, and left me in debt. Even after that, whenever I had money he would wrestle it from me. I was sometimes hungry, and always cold. I was in a damp flat throughout the winter, and I couldn’t afford heating. He even moved an armed crack dealer into my attic when I was at work. The dramas were constant and terrible, but the promises and lies were worse. Hope is a horrible thing,when it is dashed every time. I can’t take any more.
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Wow. With that kind of a history, survival instinct is definitely going to kick in. You pit so much of you in the writings I feel like I know you already.
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That’s what I want – to be known, warts and all.
I want the mothers of addicts to look at me and say “She survived, so I can.” I want them to know there IS life after that moment when you curl up in a ball and scream, believing you will die from the pain. Though it may happen over and over, you can rise from it every time, and you can smile, even laugh again.
Maybe I should make that into a poem…
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Isn’t it already? Sounded poetic enough. I believe in the wisdom of lyrics… If it makes you happy it can’t be that bad, if it makes you happy then why the hell are you so sad? – sheryl crow
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I like that song…
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Just realised. *put so much of you not pit 😦
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I often drop typos into my comments… 🙂
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Oh, love. So glad you were able to do this – he has driven you to it. No one can keep taking the abuse, the mistreatment without a response and this is yours. It’s self preservation – Paul seems determined to destroy himself, but he needn’t take you along with him. I’m so sorry, but still, well done 🙂
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Thank you – this may amuse you – Yasmin seems to have taken Paul under her evil little wing.
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Well, good luck to her! How on earth will that turn out? Terribly, I’m sure. Stupid woman
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She’ll get an official warning – and if I have my way, she’ll get a second one for letting Paul into the building and sending him up to me the other night when I was pretending to be out. He didn’t get into the flat, but we are unnder strict instructions not to let people into the building to see other residents without very good reason. Apparently he and his girlfriend were found asleep outside my door. I could have got the blame for that, but the supervisor didn’t tell me – obviously she didn’t want me worried.
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Yes, absolutely awful that she let him in. I hate people who assume they know what’s right for you too. Just because someone is related to you, doesn’t mean you should have to see them, doesn’t mean they are good for you or you have to have them in your life. Interferring baggage. Let’s hope she gets that warning.
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She knew I didn’t want anything to do with him. The supervisor will kick up a huge stink about this. Whe loathes Y. for the trouble she causes all the time, and she and I have a particular connection, due to her history.
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Y sounds like a trouble maker alright. People shoukd learn to mind their own business
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When I first knew her I didn’t like her, but she decided we were friends, and over the years I got used to the idea. But she’s not someone I want around me, and she’s finally given me the opportunity to tell her how I feel. That’s something, at least 🙂
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Goodbye to bad rubbish. I found myself before, ‘friends’ with someone who made me feel bad while boosting her own self confidence. Fortunately I ‘escaped’, which sounds dramatic, but didn’t feel it at the time, she was so poisonous. We don’t need dross in our lives making feel like crap. I’m glad you’ve had this opportunity and taken it.
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So am I. I remember when I first knew her, wishing she’d leave me alone. 39 years! Ridiculous…
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At least now you’re free of her – for good I hope
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I think so, somehow. She can’t take criticism 🙂
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Some people love to give out but can’t take it. Not an endearing trait.
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Ha!
Yasmin: une point
Jane: deux points
She’s going to have to take it 🙂
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🙂
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