Tag: divorce

  • The absent parent

    The absent parent

    Even an absent parent is still parenting.

    It’s then on the shoulders of the present one to compensate for that.

    Sometimes, the absence of someone has a greater impact on us than the presence of others.

    This is especially true for parenting.

    The absent parent leaves the child with feelings of abandonment, insignificance, and a low self-esteem, to name a few.

    Worse still, it tortures them with the hope that it could be better if only…while distracting them from embracing the life and love that they have.

    It’s that unfulfilled hope and the failed expectations that become the burden of the parent who is present, who is still committed to the wholesome development of the child, to mitigate the impact of that negative influence.

    While it’s true that the children suffer, not enough is done to recognise the impact on the single parent.

    Because the human is often forgotten behind the role or the label that we assign to them.

  • The story of that (empty) house

     


    This house,

    no, THAT house

    held many things.
    In it’s wall grew

    a tangle of thoughts, emotions, musings wanderings,

    knotted together with desire, hope, love and courage

    decaying with anger, misunderstanding, insecurity and indifference
    This house,

    no, THAT house

    was built on a strong

    yet unsteady foundation

    of fascination
    That house (yes, I’ve learnt it now)

    burned down with anger.

    Bellowing flames

    pouring out of tiny windows.

    The smoke rose in great, dense clouds

    roared and flared

    light bulbs exploded,

    windows shattered

    doors burst open

    in and out

    in and out.

     

    The occupants inside singed their throats with their screaming.

    Burnt their hands with their clawing, their frustration, their anger.
    Huffed and Puffed

    and blew THAT house

    down.
    All the while the fire raged on

    (simmered, then raged, then simmered, then had to be kindled)
    And one day

    the fire died

    (as all fires usually do)
    And there was nothing but a quiet creaking house, swaying in the wind.
    Lonely on a hill

    Crooked

    Bent

    ……….
    The one weeps

    for tangled thoughts

    and knotted words

    and buried hopes

    and heavy silences that stretch

    the damp walls of an insane house

    with no occupants

    except one crazy heart

    and one reluctant fool

    who leaves and returns

    with nothing on that tongue

    but caution and lust.

    The one weeps
    For these crazy occupants

    with tangled emotions

    and knotted words

    who neither love nor hate

    Nor stand nor sit

    who hover somewhere

    between heaven and hell
    The one walks through the house

    Running fingers over peeling wallpaper

    Inspects burnt floorboards

    Stopping to listen

    to creaking eaves

    rustles in the attic

    a faint voice of the imagination,

    runs a finger over dust on the mantelpiece

    sits on the floor,

    suddenly.
    Weeps
    for the blood-stained floor

    the splintered drawers

    of past-battles

    forgotten
    the notes etched in the walls

    the whispers hanging in the rafters

    the sighs pressed against the windows
    The house groans

    waiting to fall

    waiting for the one to walk out

    and shut the door behind

    so that it may collapse

    peacefully

    quietly
    finally
    as if it had never existed

    as if the walls did not hold stories

    as if the rooms did not hold thoughts

    as if the ceilings did not hold secrets

    as if the carpets did not hold pain

    as if the house did not hold love
    As if it had never existed.