safe, finally

sat down with another pack of peas
a towel and a red face
for the fourth time since
Christmas Day.
It's New Year's Day

when I met you it was set:
you and me, me and you
I conveniently forgot
that my friends and family
made me promise I wouldn't

because you saw me different
you loved me and
I felt no-one else did

when I felt I had nothing
you were my reason for being

until something changed
and I ruined everything
because my company did not require
my services any longer.
I felt indebted to you

but we started to fight
and it was my fault
...not pretty enough
...not intelligent enough
...not attentive enough

I tried to talk to my mother
but I didn't get a reply -
no wonder, I never
believed in a god anyway.
Still, I wondered what she'd say

I couldn't leave because
I had no-one else
no-one else would love me
                    take care of me
                        house me and feed me

months of days of hours of minutes
alone inside with
bruises, scars and cuts
marking my once pure,
youthful and proud flesh

then one day you came home
and said you'd had enough after
too many beers
too many days at work
too many cold and distant evenings

my mother greeted me and
welcomed me with open arms
and all I can feel is her
warmth and love (real love)
no bruises, no pain, no cuts anymore

now and then, I watch my father weeping
for the daughter he lost
for the grandchildren he won't have
for the advice he
didn't know how to give

and I see you and what you are
and reflections of what you did to me

and I feel that here, now
in my mother's embrace again
is the only safe place I'll ever know