The bells of the church rung
He said it’s why he didn’t turn back
That and blossom in the thimbling trees so early
He believed in signs and symbols, so did I
Before I was grown and knew the torn things inside
He was the boy who learned on me
I gave what I could, but kept two things to myself
My secret was, I wanted a child
My sin was, letting him take you back
Standing fighting at the top of his marble stairwell
Smelling of his mother’s perfume and congealed cough sweets
I saw myself falling, pinwheel, before he cast me down
The imprint of his reedy hands, a daisy chain around pale throat
His child in my swelling belly, with eyes the color of regret
He said it was an accident, I felt his hate as I lost my balance
Jabbing me in the back with whisper and sharp intention
Get it out, get it out, get it out
He didn’t know the truth of us, my child and I
She wore silver bells around her neck
And in his mother’s sea blue bathroom of mirrors
I stood watching the rapture of your being, take me over
And in the night, your father tried to tear you gone
With his thrusts into me like a spear and a blunt knife
Still my child you held on
Staring through my eyes at me when we were alone
I could hear everyone’s comments before they spoke
If you have that man’s baby, you’ll be shunned
And alone was really alone. Still I thought
I am not a warrior, but I would fight for you, daughter
Quickening in me like a secret slipstream of language
I felt our connection, you were more than blood and sinew
I watched my burgeoning figure, as I removed my clothes
Thin and narrow, except where you were taking form
Stepping into the bathwater, I felt something cry and give way
And the bath became blood
Hot water on, with the door closed and locked
Your father saw water running on the tiles in the hall
All pink and gorgeous
He broke the door down and saw me sleeping in gore
All pink and gorgeous
In the hospital they whispered words of relief
She’s so young, so petite, it was a mercy and a blessing
Any more blood and she wouldn’t have made it
They didn’t see your father’s fingerprints or where
He cut you out with the slow deliberation of an absent butcher
The whoosh and hiss of hospital machinery
The soft whisper of pretty nurses shoes sliding on lino
Your father watching over me, the violence still marked on his face
When we got home, the taxi driver said; take care you goofy kids
Your father dosed me with pain killers and turned his raging back
I saw the emploring milk leaching from my breasts for you to drink
And it was red
I felt the sting of your vanishing scraped dead from myself
My stomach still swelled with your ghostly outline
Your father moved in his wrath lain sleep and mounted me
I said; I’m hurt, it’s too soon, oh God!
But God refuses sinners and pearls
You were gone so you could not speak too
And your father dove into places raw, stitched and mourning
With his eyes closed he imagined nothing and saw nothing
With his fists closed he rose above me in darkness like a wraith
Not touching the spilt evidence of you
Not realizing he was slick with blood and tears bound in a girl
Till morning when he washed you off and with it, me
As I lay in the stained bed with my nightdress hitched around my wrung neck
Feeling the milk in my breasts, the wetness of your ever spending
Feeling the tether from you to me and back again neverending
Your father went on to conquer worlds with a rod
A rich man with the same long fingernails and sharp soul
He calls me once in a while
Tells me I’m still beautiful
And if I saw him, he would bring harm
So I keep us safe and I see no one
As we sit on the balcony and I imagine
You’d be tall and you’d be beautiful like climbing honeysuckle
Because you are my daughter
We raise our glasses to your December birthday and 27 years
And your father he cannot attend our moments together
He may hurt us again, he may seek to take you away
He stays in his apartment in the city and grows richer
On weekends he chooses whores that look like I did
When I was just a young girl
With hair down to my bottom and no breasts to speak of
He had me before I ever menstrated so we thought
You could not exist
It was true, you did not
Home from the hospital with a pad of loss between my legs
But that was a fall I can still feel in my displaced bones
Seeing the future with each tumble, seeing his fists open and close
Alone now and you have been dead 28 years almost
And I light a candle
For what I was not meant to have
Though I would have loved you so
And I do
You speak to me when I sit by myself and the night is quiet
You tell me not to be lonely though it is impossible
I smile at you because that’s what mothers do
Spare their children
Any pain
Child-making and child-bearing are separated by such a fine line from barbarity and butchery.
They’re the wounds that go deepest too xxx
Candice, you have written of this before and every time you return (as with such grief, one must) you go deeper, find more, and with the alchemy of a poet infuse unbearable pain with raw beauty of expression and bring the reader into the moments as lived.
I wasn’t expecting to get emotional, but it’s hard to know what will cause one to tear up when writing is heavy, raw, real, sad, and packed with heartache.
“I watched my burgeoning figure, as I removed my clothes
Thin and narrow, except where you were taking form
Stepping into the bathwater, I felt something cry and give way
And the bath became blood
Hot water on, with the door closed and locked
Your father saw water running on the tiles in the hall
All pink and gorgeous
He broke the door down and saw me sleeping in gore
All pink and gorgeous
In the hospital they whispered words of relief
She’s so young, so petite, it was a mercy and a blessing
Any more blood and she wouldn’t have made it
They didn’t see your father’s fingerprints or where
He cut you out with the slow deliberation of an absent butcher”
And angered, I became angered. Good writing does this–it pulls emotions out of us. Candice, you are a master at that. *big hugs* It’s all I have.
It’s all I need, darling 💓
So true and well said my wordsmithing dearheart
❤
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep – Child lost, still loved
Wisdom intertwined with mercy bears a beautiful flower.
She is.
–Pam
Damn. This is sooo emotional and raw and ….. somehow beautiful, as only you can. Thank you for writing this. For sharing such tragic beauty with the world.
The tragedy and horror of this make me weep. You are brave to share it.
I cannot stop crying. My tears steam as they roll down my face. Candice, you are the one for me–the one poet who reaches farthest into the pit of me. You beautiful soul, I love you endlessly. ❤
In love with this.
Candice, so so so much love to you. This is an incredible expression of emotion, honesty, and conflicting thoughts and experiences. Such a Self-honoring act to make space for all of it. Thank you. Blessings. ~Debbie
Oh Candice! I am so sorry!
I can relate to some extent; the pushing in my case was less physical, more emotional, but resulted in a similar loss, though in my case less physically violent too.
I hurt just reading your words, my womb contracting around its emptiness.
Sending hugs and love your way.
<3
Truly heart rending, you bought tears to my eyes!
Such horror to bring tears to my eyes
I’ve said it before and I’ll continue to say it I think as long as we both live. You are magnificent. You can take something as tragic as this, and show me such beauty in the way you can tell it. As my heart bleeds over and over and my eyes well up in tears…I can not help but say to myself “she is so damn beautiful” The power you deliver here is beyond description. I love you so much…and understanding that you have been through something so very traumatic as this only reinforces my opinion of you Warrioress. You are such a wonderful mentor, to me, for strength of heart. I’ve been dealing with some emotional anxiety of my own over the last few weeks. And despite how much I have written about strength and courage…I have been vastly without it lately. My heart was having trouble saying the words “I’m not ok with the level of panic I’m in!!” Then I am reminded by brave souls such as you…that I can deal with what is troubling me. I can face down this chaos in my life and tell it, “NO! YOU WILL NOT KEEP ME FROM BEING HAPPY” I believe I can do it…but sometimes my mind forgets that I can. Your shining spirit in these dark times helps me remember.
I love you, Candice. ❤
You move me to tears & leave me at a loss of words. What can I say that already hasn’t been said better? To echo what Eric, Kindra, trE & et al. have said, you truly are magnificent! You just need to be reminded of that at times ღ
Oh dear Lord Candice.
This made me cry. I have no words.
💔💔🖤💕
Felt this deep inside, Candice – so heartbreaking, powerful….brings tears. ❤️
Wow, there is such raw brutality and honesty with this piece, Candice. You never disappoint in taking me to the core of my emotions when you put it all out there. “Feeling the tether from you to me and back again neverending” this line was the tender bit, the undying love between a mother and a child. Just precious, my dear friend! ❤