Violence and Feeling Unsafe
photo credit: Dan Blackburn on unsplash.com
We who grew up in an alcoholic or dysfunctional family knew we were not safe. I wrote about walking home from school, fearing that I would find my father drunk and rageful. He rarely hit us, but he swore, red-faced with anger and contempt. His anger was inexplicable. What had set him off? Would he be funny and want to play softball or would he be passed out on the living room rug? That uncertainty was worse than predictability. It created chaos, a roller coaster ride of emotions.
In this poem what is in a newspaper—words—can be more damaging to a child than being hit. His words imprinted a belief that we were worthless and a problem. We were shamed and felt abandoned emotionally. This is true even if we witnessed these words being directed at others. When I first came into recovery, I said my dad picked on everyone except me. Today, I believe that was not true, but even if it were, I now know that if I was in the room, I didn’t need to be the one being derided and cursed at to register the blow.
Walking Home
It’s four o’clock. The school bus chugs off,
leaving me at the end of the lane to our farm.
It’s called Princessville Road.
It’s lined with dirt, brambles, scent of wild things:
ink berries, bittersweet – their poison packed
in blood-red berries bursting from their jackets,
cornflowers, huckleberries, honeysuckle,
tiny drops of nectar shimmering on the stem.
Pull them through a slender shaft and suck it dry.
My mother isn’t home.
She’s gone to work, and left me
to return to an empty house.
At least, I hope it’s empty. I hope my father
won’t be there, his rage rolled up like newspaper,
a weapon that’s supposed to leave no mark.
PROMPT:
1. Write about where you were when you realized you weren’t safe.
2. Try to find an image, such as the newspaper in the poem above, to stand as a symbol for a weapon.
3. Try to put “contrary” impulses in your poem. They create energy. Notice that the seemingly peaceful scene of walking down the lane with the berries and flowers becomes for the narrator a scene of danger when she imagines that the berries are “poison.” So the berries are simultaneously attractive and dangerous. This is one way to reveal what keeps us returning to dangerous or unsafe emotional or physical places. We make choices that recreate our past, even if the past was painful.
