Fine, Fine, We’re All Fine, Thank You

Fine, Fine, We’re All Fine, Thank You

It isn’t there.

I didn’t see.

I don’t know.

Why ask me?

I didn’t feel it.

I didn’t touch. 

I didn’t fake it.

No, not much.

I don’t remember.

What do you mean?

Do not disturb.

Don’t be seen.

Do not talk.

Play pretend.

Rigid smiles.

No more friends.

I didn’t hear it.

I didn’t say.

Evade the question.

No dismay.

Blank expression.

Vacant eyes.

Avoidance is

A ghast disguise.

ã8 January 1991, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Precious Lord, I feeling sad,

And I’m feeling I’ve been had;

With their words they pierce right through me,

For they come merely to screw me.

Precious Lord, would I be bad,

If for once I got real mad?

If I hit them where they hurt most,

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost?

ã1 January 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

But, We All Knew You Lied

But, We All Knew You Lied

Through the eyes of innocence

You saw yourself laid bare,

And because you could not handle it,

You made yourself not care.

The pleading eyes of a frightened child

Clutched your heart each time,

But you couldn’t face yourself just then,

So your child became just slime.

The silence roared through fiery eyes

That continued to hope and plead,

Wounded, alone, and buried alive

Under a heart that would continually bleed.

Why? The eyes asked.

How could you do it? They cried.

But, I love you, you said,

And the child wouldn’t believe you lied.

ã19 January 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Loneliness

Loneliness

Alone.

The oppressive silence

Cuts into my heart

As I cry

Silent tears.

Hello?

Can anyone hear me?

Only my heartbeat

Answers the cry

Of my heart.

God?

Have even you left me

Alone…

All alone in my sorrow?

No answer…

Except

My aching heart

And tired mind.

Strange, you see,

Because there are so many people

All around…

But no one sees me.

Ignored.

This stuffy bubble

Called isolation—

Not of my choosing

But assigned to me—

Crushes me.

I see the people

And smile…

Try to talk…

But silenced by

Their indifference.

Oh, God!

What’s wrong with me?

Why does nobody want me?

Do you also

Not want me?

I weep.

Silent tears,

Shuddering at an icy wind

That only my heart

Can feel.

Alone,

   Afraid,

      Aching,

Acutely aware that others

Feel as lonely

As I do…

But are they also standing here

   Nearby smiling, chatting…

      And alone, too?

God,

You are everywhere,

So come out, come out

Wherever you are

Because I know

You’re here…

   But where are you?

Why does my heart

Feel all alone

With an aloneness

That cannot be broken through?

Oh, God,

It’s terrible torture

To know and to do

All the right things

And still feel empty…

   And alone.

God,

I know you can hear me,

But why do you—even you—

Hold yourself aloof

From my heart?

And my pain

Of feeling

All

Alone?

Is there no reprieve for good behavior?

O-o-o-oh God!

Help me!

Such lonely aching

I could die from…

But torturously,

I still live…

Alone

Even with you and people

All around me.

Utterly alone.

Oh, God.

This icy wall of separation

Is too penetratingly

An agony…

Oh, God,

If you do not bridge it,

I will die…

Alone.

To know in my head

That you have

Is not enough

If I do not feel you there.

Oh, God,

Please let me know you

And feel your presence

In my aching

Lonely heart.

Ó22 January 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Panic Attack

Panic Attack

Cold, slimy fingers creeping up my spine…

   Body hair stands up.

      GASP!

Can’t breathe.

   Pounding heart.

      Dry tongue.

         Sweat.

A nameless terror tingles my colon.

   A knot here…

      And there…

PAIN!!

   Tense.

Eyes w-I-d-e open…

   Yet blind.

Straining ears are deaf.

Chilled,

   Yet burning up

      By turns.

Racing thoughts.

Escape!!!

Yet paralyzed.

Even tears have fled the scene…

   Silently screaming

IN PANIC!!!!!

Yet remaining

   Deadly

      Still.

ã22 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Crash! Went the Facade

Crash! Went the Facade

A fantasy kingdom,

A life built on lies,

A house made of cards.

A heart in disguise,

A roof full of holes…

I now realize

As memory returns

A shocking surprise

I’ve known all along—

Right before my eyes!

Never put together—

Now the truth will arise

In my heart in my mind,

As I know of assurance

What I greatly despise

Was done to me;

My memory denies

I’ve made it up—

Now the truth for the lies…

Will set me free???

Oh, God! For the lies!

Ó17 January 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Daddy, oh Daddy

Daddy, oh Daddy

Daddy, oh daddy,

Please love your little girl.

I’m scared, oh so frightened.

Let me in your lap curl.

Daddy, oh daddy,

I am a wee, wee tot.

I only want to laugh and play.

I don’t know what’s right, what’s not.

But daddy, oh my daddy,

I do not understand

Why you say you love me,

But on the other hand…

…daddy? Oh daddy?

Why does your love hurt so?

Why does what should bring me up

Make me feel so low?

ã19 June 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

So When Will I Be Good Enough?

So When Will I Be Good Enough?

Mommy, where are you?

I need you right now!

I’ve always tried to please you,

But could you please tell me how?

It seems the very best I do

Is never really enough

To meet your expectations of me,

So you treat me very rough.

Am I really so offensive

That you cannot treat me right?

Isn’t it cruel to say one day

That you just might…

…might what?

Am I not allowed to know?

Or is this just your way to say

You’ll keep me under toe?

ã19 June 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

I’ve Heard This One Before

I’ve Heard This One Before

Oh, little one, stop crying now,

For you are now safe and sound.

Just settle down within my arms.

Let your heart now cease to pound.

Rest your head upon my chest

And rest your troubled mind.

It really is quite pleasant, dear,

To take you from behind.

No, don’t scream from pain or fear.

Don’t anyone disturb.

You’re all right within my arms,

So don’t you me perturb!

There, there, it’s over now.

That wasn’t so very bad.

It’s just because I love you so.

Now aren’t you very glad?

ã19 June 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

And the Child Cries

And the Child Cries

Guilty! Branded!

Declared unclean!

Pariah! Scum!

What does it mean?

To be shunned,

To be outcast,

Outside, unwanted…

How long will this last?

Hurting so deeply,

Yet feeling numb,

And being too smart

Just to play dumb.

Aching and empty

Yet trying to hope,

Fears, hurt, anger,

Trying to cope.

Yet what have I done

To be treated this way?

It must be quite horrible

Because no one will say.

ã23 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.