lovely lies

once there was a truth between us
and then a lie,
then many more
’till we were lost along the way somewhere.

there once was love behind your eyes
but now we dance around the lies
as you pierce the very air
with the sharpened knives of your unremitting rage

the music starts
and my emotional museum
dredges up some dusty piece of trouble
from a basement closet that opens inward, but not out.
i blow off the dust,
shine up the lies,
and my precious good intentions fail to save me,
once again

i could live with ugly truth
it is your lovely lies that i find difficult to bury
as i toss my shovel-full of dirt
onto the empty casket
of what never really was.

(c) 2020 BGeiger

beware


seeing stars on the way down
knocked flat
no warning.
i wasn’t really hungry anyway.

physical abuse
is preceded
by insidious, biting ridicule
that quietly erodes the ego necessary
for self-preservation.

contempt and scorn
are the daily bread of the dis-loved woman
she can not complain
she has no one left to listen
eventually she capitulates
at last believing
that abuse is what she deserves.

i have come to believe
that the abuser loves the challenge
of besting a strong woman.
i was not so much battered,
as conquered.

if i had only read
The Taming of the Shrew
instead of Romeo and Juliet
i might have been
at least
forewarned.

beware the charming man


(c) 2020 BGeiger

crysalis

my body is not who i am.
i am not this fuzzy little worm,
i am an elegant creature,
with fabulous golden wings,
you will see

my fuzzy body only sleeps in fairy dust
and grateful peace
while i become the glorious new me

when i wake,
i will lift my astonishing new wings
and my soul will fly
from flower to flower in the sunlight

and the old you, will see the new me,
and i will wink at you
and fly away


(c) 2020 BGeiger

get away day



long ago, but not far enough away
mommy we have to leave before he kills you
oh my god
they know
and they are afraid

my heart aches even now
remembering their faces
my little girls
mommy please
they know

we made a plan
two paper bags
one change of clothing
walk out the back
knock on a door
ask for help
end of plan

make a plan, even a bad plan
never go back

they saved my life, i know that now
and just so you know
they know
they always know.

(c) 2020 BGeiger

whispers


love may be poison
wrapped up in ribbons,
a slow suffocation of all that seemed shining,
a promise of dark dreams
stinging with terror,
as violence lurks behind yesterday’s flowers

she is cut to the bone,
with whispers and smiles.
this is not love, this is raw, wicked power.
it is rape, with soft words
leaving torn, jagged wounds
on the bright, bloody shards
of the soul of his lover.

the shadow of fear, falls cold as the night
as hearts search in darkness,
for truth without lies.

(c) 2020 BGeiger

sign posts


she’s not around much these days
they always ask, but she stays away
her secret life has such demands
she has no time for her old friends

they see the pain behind her eyes
they see the change but don’t know why
she was so bright and vibrant then
the music of her soul has dimmed
her old friends see and want to say
but she wouldn’t tell them anyway

her sunny smile seems insincere
her house too clean, her kids too quiet
her hair and makeup always perfect
she looks the part, but she’s just not
the happy girl they knew and loved
she won’t ask and they won’t say
but they can’t help her anyway

she keeps her sorrows tucked away
she needs their help but she won’t say
her secret shame keeps her withdrawn
if only she could tell someone

one day soon, maybe today
they might ask
and she might say
and they will help her get away

(c) 2020 BGeiger

on leaving


go, or stay, but do not think
that if you wait it might get better
that the first time will be the last time,
don’t excuse the violence,
it is not just stress or job or no job or money or no money,
an abuser will be abusive
no matter the circumstance
the sad truth is that once it starts, it will always, only, ever, get worse

when is it time to leave?
when you realize that no one,
not even god, will change him for you,
when you no longer care about what you are leaving behind,
when your children tell you that it’s time to go,
it is

when you decide to leave, just do it
don’t pack more than you need,
don’t leave a note,
don’t call your mother,
don’t involve your friends,
don’t waste time gathering things that you are not willing to die for
and whatever you do,
don’t go back,
don’t ever go back,
no matter how sorry he seems
you must know that if you give him the chance
the abuser will get even


(c) 2020 BGeiger

the grave

the shining bride
who promised life and love
may take comfort in oath well kept
though little else gives ease to her thin bones

once sweet romance has shivered quietly
into her lonely, frozen grave
she offers up the polished doors to living hell
as consolation prize

the desperate clutch of fantasy
leaves desiccated weeds where gardens flourished
in the summer of her dreams
and the broken bride walks slowly toward
the dreadful ending of her fairy tale

(c) 2020 BGeiger

alone

it is dark
and quiet
the loudest sound in the room is the beating of my heart
i can feel blood rushing through my veins
the sounds of my life are deafening

the silence is palpable
i should have felt peaceful
but i wished for someone to talk with
or love

once again, i tell myself that no one will hurt me tonight
i don’t have to be afraid anymore

today i would tell my younger self to get a dog
and a library card


(c) 2020 BGeiger

expectations


broken hearts and shattered dreams
are the stuff of expectations

they are the trouble after all
if only this
if only that

this very moment is all we have
all that we can truly call our own,
the rest is only shiny dreams
and expectations

if you must love
don’t give it to the one
who hurts your heart and walks away.
save it for the one
who will love you peacefully
and truly

but for today,
be with yourself,
not by yourself alone.
love the day as it unfolds
and love yourself
at least a little, every day.


(c) 2020 BGeiger

stupid, worthless, fat/skinny, ugly, f*cking bitch


nobody will ever love you like i do, you f*cking bitch.
you are worthless, stupid, fat/skinny, ugly.
if you just hadn’t said/done that.
it’s your fault that i had to (you know).

if you have heard some version of this,
you are being abused.

wake up.
you are not any of those things.
you do not deserve to live in fear.
you do not deserve this damage to your body or your mind.
listen to your brain, not your ego.
your ego has lost its way.
see what is really there.
look for what is true.

abuse is the life-time lease on a condo in hell.
the only way out is to open the door,
put one foot in front of the other
and walk away.


(c) 2020 BGeiger

rain

img_4229-mtry-sunset be veryangry


burning black sand,
extravagantly bright flowers
quite suddenly dripping with warm rain
that pounds the earth with unreasonable fury

in a moment, the rain is gone
and the sand is burning hot again

violence is not rain
it does not simply stop.
bravery is necessary
yet one time more than you believe is in you

run
before you cannot



(c) 2020 BGeiger

abuse

IMG_1400


interpret the word however you like.
if you have no power in your relationship,
no control over your own life
and no hope,
this is abuse.

if your confidence has been stolen from you,
if you must tiptoe
through the turbulence between power and ego,
this is abuse.

if words are only safe unspoken
thoughts monitored for subversion,
feelings stuffed between the sofa cushions,
you are being abused.

if you are paralyzed with fear
of staying, of leaving
of dying, of not dying
and have nowhere left to go,
you are being abused.


(c) 2020 BGeiger

merciless

eyes downcast
smile frozen in place
she thinks that she is hiding her pain.
dancing on a wire
to a tune played by her leading man.
it is a frantic dance,
a carefully choreographed ballet.

any flat look of disappointment sends ice into her heart.
there is no end to the music
no breath between sets
she must anticipate each twirl and spin
for failure is unthinkable
and punishment is swift.

when finally she sleeps,
her dreams are wastelands.
sadly, she still hopes to please
to find what is lacking, repair the breach, and return to the fairy tale.
she does not yet understand
that fairy tales are horror stories
in the end.


(c) 2020 BGeiger

screaming at the sun

geminidetail

hollow footsteps echo
through sterile parquet hallways.
stark walls boldly announce original works of masterful color,
aching with soulful beauty.

each wrenched from brush and palate by a captive artist
who gave hope and heart to beauty,
only to die alone.

quite suddenly
i am face to face with a crying woman
trapped in canvas
’till dust again.

her deeply fractured sorrow
singes the edges my soul
and i know
why she cries alone


(c) 2020 BGeiger

secret

IMG_9306


hiding
like a secret,
behind the floppy green leaves,
this tiny pocket of flowers
brought a sweet smile to my heart today

i had forgotten
perhaps
that secrets should be joyous

there was a time when my life held many secrets.
sorrows i could not contain
searching wildly for courage
to scream
and run
and run
and never stop
until the world was safe again


(c) 2020 BGeiger

little one


you are the future of my past
and the star on my horizon.

life has disappointed you
and my heart aches
for your sorrow.

i have lived and loved
and hurt and been hurt
and cried so many tears
and yet, it was impossible to take the pain for you

young women become so
by twisting and scraping against the walls of time
desperately crowding the future
into the present.
impatient for their dreams
to open into now

your future
will become your past
and these hard days will be
but pages read, and scattered
on the winds of fleeting dreams


(c) 2020 BGeiger

living in color

we want time,
and time,
and more time, to what end?
will we die happier if we live a long life
of if we live gratefully
for temporary things
love, kinship, a smile, eyes that truly see

look at the trees,
i doubt they complain about the years they don’t have.
it seems enough to stretch their branches toward the sun,
to witness thunder and soak up fresh drops of rain,
to stand tall without demanding eternity.

breathe in the beauty and strength of the trees,
endlessly renewing, shedding the old and moving on.
it is the way of the universe.
we live, we grow old, or not, and we die,
maybe we change form and shape and live again,
somehow or another
or maybe not
it doesn’t matter to me
one life is magical enough,
if i don’t waste it living in desperation and fear.

(c) 2020 BGeiger

the day after

IMG_9492


becoming older is simple
it sneaks up on you,
until it doesn’t

this beauty will also grow old,
crumple in upon herself
and lose her amazing petals,
which feel wooden to my careful touch

it is my joy to have witnessed her life
even as my aging body requires me to walk slowly enough to notice
thank goodness

do not allow your old age to be stolen from you
run
get out
your stuff isn’t worth it

don’t wait to leave until the day after he kills you


(c) 2020 BGeiger

 

becoming rain

each of us are only particles,
currently assembled into sentient beings
held together by friction and stubbornness,
aware,
for the moment, of our being-ness.

surviving survival
pulled all of my strings and tore at my heart
’till my particles burned with confusion and dread.

surviving,
recreating myself,
from a bundle of tangled, broken fragments
was only the beginning.
learning to live again,
to find my own being-ness
took all of my soul’s work
and many days, and nights
and years.

when my particles disassemble this time,
I look forward
to becoming rain

The concept of becoming rain is from The Art of Living by Thich Nhat Hanh

(c) 2020 BGeiger

dying, with sparkles


there is no filling the empty soul.
it closes up around itself and refuses to take nourishment.
nothing is right,
nothing lights the darkness.

the soul needs to sing and dance and play, joyously.
if joy has gone of its own accord
or been sold to the highest bidder
the soul will starve.

take back the joy.
let go of the shiny substitute.
death hides in the sparkles.


(c) 2020 BGeiger

shrew


i was a battered wife
briefly,
until I became a prisoner.
which is of course,
the only way to tame a Shrew

the single unlovely, outspoken, prickly weed
in his perfect garden
of quiet, well behaved possessions

the prisoner, fortunately,
will never become what she is not
and the Shrew will finally, at long last
notice a spark of light in the darkness,
pull herself up by her roots,
and her hair,
charge headlong into the
blinding white light of freedom
and never look back.
not ever.

your circumstance is not your fate
it is a warning, not a curse.
run for your life
before you put down roots

(c) 2020 BGeiger