Ovi -
we cover every issue
newsletterNewsletter
subscribeSubscribe
contactContact
searchSearch
worldwide creative inspiration  
Ovi Bookshop - Free Ebook
Tony Zuvela - Cartoons, Illustrations
Ovi Language
George Kalatzis - A Family Story 1924-1967
Stop violence against women
Tony Zuvela - Cartoons, Illustrations
International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement
 
BBC News :   - 
iBite :   - 
GermanGreekEnglishSpanishFinnishFrenchItalianPortugueseSwedish
Signs, and symbols Signs, and symbols
by Abigail George
2019-12-15 11:11:12
Print - Comment - Send to a Friend - More from this Author
DeliciousRedditFacebookDigg! StumbleUpon

(for Staff Sergeant Joseph William George)

This is not a suicide note to remind the cruel world
about me, about my name. The boy with the dark
hair has already moved on with his life and forgotten
all about me, and oh, did I forget to say that nobody
loves me, that I’m a gifted stranger to most boys, and
mostly men, older men, with beautiful wives and them
sig01_400children, their children. And of course, because of
my endometriosis I cannot have children. Love me,
I’m difficult. Hate me, I’ll submit. I’ll do your bidding.
The bathwater is cold, but I wash his back in circles.
I promise I’ll only talk about the abuse if you’re bad

to me. I’m some kind of chef too. I keep marking time,
score after score after score, drawing up lists, ingredients,
because life is an adventure, and I’m lovesick and all
alone. If you give me all your affection and support,
I promise I’ll keep my distance, and I promise I won’t
make a scene, or talk about my auditory hallucinations.
All you have to do is bake half-truths, tell me ochre, that
you’re fond of me, that you love me, that you’ll go
quietly, and then I won’t speak about death to you, won’t
speak about death, not wanting to live quietly-cute.
You are in my blood, and I am in your blood. I sigh,

I cry, I’ll watch you leave, I’ll watch you say goodbye.
You’re gone, you’re gone, some kind of unkind, gone.
You are body and mind and mine and nothing short
of a walking and talking and armed miracle, you
have my heart, you have my brilliant, brilliant heart.
Now we don’t write and we don’t even talk. Now we
have absolutely nothing to say to each other. Once we
were lovers, once we were friends, and sometimes,
just sometimes I used to say to you, “Let’s get married.”
You always thought I was wise, sweet and innocent.
Always told me that you weren’t the marrying kind.

*****************************************************************
Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
"All about my mother" & "Brother Wolf and Sister Wren"
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!

 life_06_400

 


    
Print - Comment - Send to a Friend - More from this Author

Comments(0)
Get it off your chest
Name:
Comment:
 (comments policy)

© Copyright CHAMELEON PROJECT Tmi 2005-2008  -  Sitemap  -  Add to favourites  -  Link to Ovi
Privacy Policy  -  Contact  -  RSS Feeds  -  Search  -  Submissions  -  Subscribe  -  About Ovi