Don't Tell Me Not to Ask Why Read online

  Also by Samantha King Holmes

  Born to Love, Cursed to Feel

  We Hope This Reaches You in Time (with r.h. Sin)

  To my husband, thank you for always seeing me

  Let the Children Speak

  Let’s not talk about it

  Let’s not address it

  The lump under the rug still has more room

  As a child, I was taught not to speak

  I was young, what did I know

  As an adult, I was still told not to speak out,

  it’s disrespectful

  Didn’t I turn out fine despite the circumstances,

  wasn’t that enough?

  You said your best was given

  That’s a lie I’m no longer able to accept

  I was the one who had to live with the

  consequences of adult decisions

  that didn’t have my best interest in mind

  You should have just listened

  You defend yourself, you justify,

  where you should apologize

  You treat me as if there is still milk on my breath

  while expecting an adult to grow from the ashes

  of my adolescence

  Expecting no tears to be shed over the desolation

  of my childhood

  I think we’ve created a reality

  where we just don’t talk about what came before

  We avoid the potholes of our bonds

  We stopped trying to fill them in long ago

  So little hope for recovery

  Is it a shock I’ve kept my mouth shut so long?

  Endured, suffered quietly

  As if my pain, my anguish had no place

  in this world

  Didn’t deserve to be spoken, acknowledged

  What power I gave everyone over me

  with my devoted silence

  I think my childhood died there

  That’s what dire circumstances do to you

  You’re a child seeing life through a child’s eyes,

  being called to be mature enough to handle a

  situation, but not have an opinion

  How confusing that our maturity should merely be a

  convenience when called upon but struck down the

  minute it’s pointed out the hand they’ve played in it

  They never want to hear the truth

  even when we’ve aged and deserve answers

  How hard it must be to face the product of your not so

  well thought out decisions in a living, breathing form that

  continues to ask questions that you don’t feel the need to answer

  It’s easy to point out my mistakes without taking

  into consideration how you contributed in making

  me who I am

  I’m not looking for perfection here

  or even an apology

  I’ve wanted the truth for so long

  and now must accept that’s not something

  you’re willing to give me

  If Only

  Guess we should have talked more

  Guess you should have listened

  I guess you should have taken the time

  to make more of an effort

  I guess things would be different

  if that were the case

  My feelings are valid

  My truth is loud

  I’ve somehow learned to drown out

  the past with the beat of my ambitions

  Guess you made me stronger

  Guess I should thank you

  Truth is though

  you should have just loved me

  Wet Blanket

  I remember our house was big

  So big, in fact, that I trapped myself there

  I don’t think I ever quite forgave you for all that

  we lost or keeping from me what actually went

  wrong

  Everything happened so fast

  I’ve worked so hard the majority of my life

  to have that house, to have that life back,

  without ever asking myself if that’s what I really

  needed

  I think all I really wanted was what

  I was made to believe is fulfilling

  I tried to keep us all intact

  Stay, be the family we’re supposed to be

  I guess life is filled with humor

  even when I don’t want to see it

  Everyone just wanted their own lives

  I think we’re all just figuring it out

  So that house with the honeysuckle that grows in

  the back is something I have to let go of

  I didn’t get to keep it then

  and I don’t need it now

  It wasn’t filled with anything that lasted

  I have to create my own space

  Just Call Me Alice

  I always escaped into books,

  out of windows, and into my daydreams

  I left behind a reality I felt

  I was too young to change

  They mocked me and my moods,

  chalked it up to the transition

  No one acknowledged the pain, the scars,

  the desire to be home even though I didn’t

  rightfully have one to call my own

  I became something different

  I stowed away into the nooks of a library,

  the corner of any room

  I wasn’t hiding myself from the world,

  just working out my place in it

  Carving out a reality that I felt

  I would one day belong in

  They may have thought it was silly of me to

  dream, but my reality now is better than anything

  I created in my mind

  Never Enough

  I could never tell you

  how when you called me stocky

  it made me insecure

  I could never tell you

  I stopped eating to be smaller

  I could never tell you

  I started to embrace my body

  after boys noticed me

  I could never tell you

  they broke my heart too

  I could never tell you

  that I envied daughters

  who had a relationship with their mother

  I could never tell you

  I wanted that too

  I could never tell you

  I felt like you chose him over us

  I could never tell you

  how much it all hurt

  The destruction I allowed my body,

  soul, and mind to go through

  I could never tell you

  what I’ve endured as a woman

  There’s so much you don’t know

  And even though you’re in my life now

  there’s still so many things I still can’t tell you

  Cruel Intentions

  The first people to make me love

  my body were boys

  Even after I had cut them off

  they left their intentions on me

  pumping through my veins like venom

  I became addicted to the validation

  taking chances with my heart

  I shouldn’t have chased them

  I think men enjoyed the thought

  of taming something wild

  My body became the final frontier

  They decimated me,

  and left it up to me to rebuild

  I don’t think I ever blossomed the same

  There are scars that fleck the

  beauty of what’s left

  I feel like they used me as an escape

  A momenta
ry lapse of lust confused as

  genuine affection

  Lynbrook Motel

  I remember the way it smelled

  It was dry, decaying,

  reeked of hopelessness and neglect

  It stuck to your nostrils, clung to your clothes

  as if you were its only chance for salvation

  The decor was out of date

  It’s the stuff made of movies

  We shouldn’t be here

  How strange, home went from walls in a house

  to a room we occupy for $ 100 a day

  Don’t call us resilient, I think we were just numb

  Just getting by

  Just getting through it

  That wasn’t home

  Just a space in time that spurred everything else

  __________

  I don’t think you ever really liked me

  We were obligated by blood to protect

  to lean on, to be there for,

  but liking someone is a choice

  I’ve been brave, I’ve been strong, but I don’t

  know if you ever respected me

  I came along, and it was another person

  to steal the attention away

  Another person to be matched up against

  I think you’ve always looked for in others

  what I was supposed to be

  I think you found a good replacement

  I don’t know what made you hate me so much

  or why you feel the need to compete

  I’ve been far from perfect

  but my decisions are my own

  It’s hard for people to accept

  that our relationship has changed

  become nonexistent

  but I think it is time to accept

  that just because we’re family

  doesn’t mean we’ll be friends

  224 th

  I remember the smell of honeysuckle

  and the tickle of overgrown grass

  My fingers outstretched toward the sun

  the heat of it lingering on the tips

  This little girl with so much in front of her

  I go back to her, to that moment

  The innocence, the dreamer,

  before reality creeped in to show her

  how strong she truly was, had to be

  She didn’t know pain yet

  She knew nothing of a relentless

  need or want of others

  She was happy there all alone in the tall grass

  left with her imagination and the warmth on her

  skin

  Hindsight

  You both checked out

  Our childhood became collateral damage

  That’s a depressing way to think about it

  I don’t think anyone ever asked if I was angry

  I’m still angry

  There was no time to debrief

  We had to keep going, always going

  No time for questions, no time to understand

  If I stopped for too long

  it would bear down on me like a storm

  Everything I’d been avoiding

  So, we just kept running

  I fought my storms alone

  Retreated inside of people, delusions

  As if somehow, if I loved someone enough

  and it was returned, then everything

  would be fine

  I got that wrong

  Love of self had to come first

  The right person followed after

  Liliane

  I wish one day to be half the woman you were

  I look more like you the older I get, so I hope I’m

  off to a good start

  I remember the last conversation we had

  I vaguely remember your smile and your laugh

  Your ascension occurred when I was young

  My mind refuses to recall the images of your

  body giving way on you

  Your soul gently saying goodbye to the frame that

  encased it

  I catch a familiar scent of you and it makes me

  want to cry

  I never got to tell you how grateful I am that you

  were in my life

  With age came the understanding of the

  unrelenting love you gave

  With faith came the acknowledgment that

  you’re in a better place

  I hope when you look down that you are proud

  I’m doing my best

  Boden Ave

  The scent of fresh baked cookies, the thud of

  children running, and laughter fill the house

  The pizza you ordered is on its way

  The living room floor a mosaic of comforters

  for the sleepover

  There are debates over what scary movie to play

  The atmosphere is dripping in a warmth and love

  that comes from all of us being together once again

  I’ve come to see this place as an uplifting refuge

  A refreshing break from the constant worry on

  my mind and the things I’m not saying

  I get to be myself, I get to be honest, and the

  amount of affection that gets poured over us in

  this home is overwhelming

  There is no such thing as overstaying our

  welcome

  You treat us as if we’re your own children even

  though we’re not

  You’ve always stood tall, always have made us

  feel safe

  I may not have said this enough

  but thank you for being a constant light in our

  lives and for always going that extra mile

  I know you didn’t have to

  I’m just not there yet

  I’m learning I don’t need

  your truth to move forward

  It won’t fix anything

  I caged myself in a past that

  I wanted you to change

  I fooled myself into believing that

  you owning up would

  somehow make things right

  The truth is, I just haven’t forgiven you

  I haven’t been able to accept who you are

  and the choices you’ve made

  I don’t know how

  It’s time to face it

  We stick to the surface

  Venturing too deep means the possibility

  of disturbing old wounds and facing issues

  we’re still not comfortable talking about

  The cure of which would be time and distance

  until talking on the phone no longer seemed

  like an obligation

  I think we’ve gone the avoidance

  route for far too long

  We no longer know how to connect

  Now that we don’t speak anymore

  I’ve become ok with that

  At first it hurt, but I’ve become solidified in the

  notion that someone doesn’t just get to treat me

  poorly and get away with it

  We should have been honest or just gotten help

  I think we’re at a place

  where repairing takes too much out of us

  We no longer see this as a bond worth saving

  Trophy Child

  I hate that you tell people about me

  That you put me in situations

  where I meet them

  They approach and tell me how

  they feel like they know me

  How can they?

  You barely do

  At least not the way you should

  Most times I don’t even know who they are

  I end up feeling like a prop in a scene

  that I’m just waiting to be over

  You’re selling what they willingly buy into

  No need to question why I’m a bit standoffish

  Have you told them that before this we hadn’t

  ta
lked in weeks?

  That we don’t spend the holidays together

  We haven’t really for years

  No?

  What about the chaos we endured when we were

  younger?

  Did any of what made me who I am ever get

  explained?

  I hate the lies, all the lies,

  especially the one where we pretend

  like we’re all one big happy, healthy family

  I spare your feelings constantly

  even though it’s not my job

  So, I stand still and stare off

  as you gush over everything I’ve become

  without explaining the part you played in it

  We are accomplices in letting people believe

  that you did something to encourage me

  Truth is though . . .

  Well I guess, who really cares what the truth is

  Acceptance

  I think I yearned for something that

  hadn’t quite held me in its embrace

  Who taught my soul there was something

  more to yearn for?

  I always knew something was missing but could

  never teach someone the right way to fill

  in the empty space

  Acceptance has been my shortcoming

  for longer than I’ve been aware

  I didn’t see, wouldn’t acknowledge, your pain

  I only cared about mine and the role you were

  supposed to play in my life

  I get that there’s more to what happened

  than I can recall

  It’s just a shame the love you felt you were

  missing is exactly what you starved me of

  Exiling me to roam through every door that

  opened without a thought of what was waiting for

  me on the other side

  You didn’t see me; I didn’t see you

  I guess you felt abandoned

  Can you see the irony?

  In the life you chose to lead and how

  that ultimately affected me

  In the way you’ve remained silent

  As if speaking about things

  would rock the boat and toss us over

  You hate confrontation

  I rush to protect, it normally doesn’t

  work out to my best interest

  I always felt the need to defend myself

  because you didn’t do it enough

  I wish you did, you were supposed to be my

  shield from the world and all the bad people in it

  I know I have to forgive your broken pieces

  It’s just, you were supposed to be the benchmark

  that I measure myself up to

  The best I can do is admit that I’m not quite

  at that point yet

  I’m starting to accept that you have your own

  stories, truths too excruciating to speak aloud