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

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

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

 

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