Ranting Rights

Ranting Rights, written on a pink-violet lightbeam....

I don't trust you, she said
I don't trust you alone with my children
Hmmmm, that always worries me
when she says weird things like that
Naive me wonders 'What?! Why?!'
for a while
and then I'm reminded of the truth
A truth that apparently hasn't been adjusted
massaged toward a healthiness
gently dismantled.
She's already done what she fears
I might do.
But I wouldn't
And she would.
She did.
She passed a legacy of hurt onto her child
telling him ugly details
from her point of view
her side of the story
making me the bad guy
planting anger in him.

Earlier as we were yelling about the past
I asked
What do you tell him
when he asks why he doesn't see family anymore?
No response.
I asked again.
Nothing, she blankly (and guiltily) replied
Now if I were to call her a liar she would get all pissed off
but apparently she is
She passed her anger on.
Hell of a gift.
Is that your legacy?! screams my heart
Hearts.
Your heart of gold is poisoned by righteousness
You tyrant!
You martyr!
You're full of fear and you say that's the way you are
That's your excuse.

What a pitiful display
of desperate power
fueled by anger.
You're afraid of being hurt
so you hurt first.
You haven't a clue how to heal.

There's a space in your being
for courage to confront
that is empty
awaiting some speck of consciousness
some awareness
a self-honesty.
It's okay to learn.

Thank you for the multitude of opportunities you give me
to rise above
to expand my heart
to re-frame ugly feelings into healing messages, at least to me
to practice, practice, practice loving someone who doesn't self-examine
to detach so that I may have access to a child I adore....is that where your power lies?
Your lovable soul is buried under such excrement.
I'm here to practice in front of you
I pray you notice
a different way of being
with healing results.

If you weren't my sister
who I used to love
you'd be burnt toast.
Tossed.

There. That feels better.