I am horrid
and resentful
and selfishly
want my time
and energy
and body
for myself.

She says to claim what is mine.
To take it for myself.
To own it.

But how can I claim what is mine?
How can I deny those I love?

A claim for myself must mean
someone else is left wanting –

Why is it so hard to believe that there is somehow enough to go around?

One day maybe I will evolve
into a person who softens.

When I am this selfish version
of myself (mother, wife, daughter, friend),
I feel quite terrible,

and immediately look
at the smiling face
of my child

and I feel a bit better.

Our small world

Not too late, but late for us,

the three of us are together

in the car driving home after

a night with friends.


Cold and dark and rain beat on the windows

but are unable to penetrate our small world.


There is only us,

inside together –

an island,

apart from the rest

of the world.


Just us,

safe and warm

and on our way home.

Pale green stars

The two of us lay side
by side facing each other.
She suckles contentedly.

I take a deep breath trying
to relieve my tension and breathe
love and comfort
into her.

The worst thing about our fighting
is worrying that she can feel it.
That we are scarring her,
creating deep issues
that will one day rise up and make us
wish to God we had been better
in her early years.

These days I can’t feel anger
without bringing along with it
worry and guilt.

She signs and turns her body
releasing my nipple.

I move carefully,
slowly so as not to
wake her.

I emerge from the dark bedroom
ready for another evening of
avoidance and too much wine.

Thankfully my stubborn
heart pushes the issue
and we talk
and he sees me
and I sigh again, this time
with relief and much warm air.

I hope that the girl can feel it
from her darkened room
under pale green stars.