Tuesday, April 13, 2010

I Got Flowers Today

Got Flowers Today
I got flowers today.
It wasn't my birthday or any other special day.
We had our first argument last night
and he said a lot of cruel things that really hurt me.
I know he is sorry and didn't mean the things he said.
Because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today
It wasn't my anniversary or any other special day.
Last night, he threw me into a wall and started to choke me.
It seemed like a nightmare.
I couldn’t believe it was real.
I woke up this morning sore and bruised all over.
I know he must be sorry.
Because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today,
and it wasn't Mother’s Day or any other special day.
Last night, he beat me up again
and it was much worse than all the other times.
If I leave him, what will I do?
How will I take care of my kids?
What about money?
I’m afraid of him and scared to leave.
But I know he must be sorry.
Because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today.
Today was a very special day.
It was the day of my funeral.
Last night, he finally killed me.
He beat me to death.

If only I had gathered enough courage and strength to leave him,
I would not have gotten flowers today.

I wasn't going to post for awhile but I found this poem and it didn't leave my mind, actually its been going through my mind over and over, as I got flowers today. It is ironic all that we are to know, identify each issue, recognize the signs to avoid a violent episode at any cost, be the sole decision maker, psychologist,, analyst, etc. Living life trying to avoid pushing the wrong buttons, wondering what is going on in someone's head is not living. Not every situation is the same and as my sister said some people have it worse. I always hated that line, "someone else has it worse, how it touches each of us, what we get from it , the not so pleasant memories and also the mixed messages and the troubling lessons, they all become a part of who we are.
I again have to remember the people who I began writing for, it actually was a young a woman, a stranger her name was Jessie. I told Jessie nothing about myself, on the other hand Jessie told me an awful lot about her situation. Jessie made me promise I wouldn't forget her, I have since lost the piece of paper with her name on it, but the rose that she placed in my hand still burns a vision and her memory haunting.
Jessie has two children and she is in caught up in one of the most extreme abusive situations. Her husband is in jail and she fears his release. I don't know what people expect of me and how can I make a difference? I am not sure, the years have gone by and I have battled my own insecurity and stepped in unknown territory to prove my worth. The decision making is difficult and I wonder exactly what road lies ahead and in what direction shall we journey. When you live by love and faith is your guide, it is very difficult to understand those who strike out in anger and with hatred towards someone who they claim to love. That will always blow my mind. How many times must a person be threatened? Where in the equation is does abuse and hatred become equal to love? The hills high and the roads long and each step seems to go slowly, leading in the direction where the reality of the dysfunction and the awarness leads us to resolving the traits of weakness in the lives of those who exist in a dysfunctional world. I always hated that word dysfunction, as many people are functioning in really cruel situations.
At one point you understand your own backyard and than you see beyond it. Sadly enough this is not limited to a city, state country, as all over the world seeds of evil get their start behind the doors of fear.

He who initiates the fear has already lost in the game of life,
for love spans beyond the dysfunction to bring peace.


Gail said...


Powerful post - so tru, SO sad, so unfortunate, so critical - your words vibrate like a tidal wave.

Love to you


Ann Flower said...

Nice blog. Just gone through the quatrains and found it awesome. I enjoyed it very much.