Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
As children we are told tales of monsters
We learn to fear the unknown,
that otherness is bad
and blood is thicker than water
We’re taught that family is the most important thing
and that there is safety in numbers
But any child who has flailed helplessly to escape a brother’s grasp
or purchased sleep with rivers of tears
after enduring a thersitical mother’s ranting
or cried out under the blows from a father’s fists
knows that this is a fantasy
that being alone, that hiding
can sometimes save you
and that sometimes what is known
makes one long for distance
because what’s Out There
isn’t half as scary as home
Sometimes hanging at rope’s end
seems a fair trade for one’s turn at peace
~Melanie Thomason
3/02/2020
Honest and true poem. So many kids suffer and home is the most dangerous place of all. Home is often just one more lie. Great poem.
Thanks, Gigi. Wish it weren’t so.
Brilliantly done. There is no evidence that this is a prompt response the cohesion is perfection.
Oh, wow…thank you so much.
Ah… yes. While I am happy for those who have grown up in loving homes – those of us who have had to deal with the challenges of less than a stellar upbringing and have had to claw and fight for sanity… This is fitting. Only I would hope that there is more than just the end of a rope as an option.
Well done. You used that difficult word well.
Yes, always other options…even if it doesn’t seem so. Thanks!
Powerful use of the words, heart-wrenching
Thank you, lovely!