The shadow of doubt is lifting
The darkness of the far and recent past beginning to lighten
My soul begins to breathe softly in an even cadence
Instead of deep heaves
The heavy steel weight encasing my body
Beginning to lighten too
I hear the birds more frequently
Trees are greener
Roses more colorful
Orange blossoms more fragrant
I am becoming ready
To accept love

When she went away
She made me a purple octopus
He wore a top hat
And a smile

Mrs Burnside
Asked Faux caringly
Is it just a nervous condition?

Yes, I nodded
Numb
What did I know
Who asks a child such a question

While she was there
She made other crafts too
A small gold tray
inlaid with light rose colored stones
smooth and oval
I liked to touch them
the lack of symmetry
Always bothered me

When she came back
She was subdued
Gave us our gifts
Souvenirs of her time there
She still has the tray
What happened to my purple yarn octopus?

The words dripped from his mouth
You'll be sorry
A desperate try
To regain the control
That he'd lost so many years ago

One warned him to stop
The other closed the door
Little did they know
His words set off
A chain of events already in progress

Destroying hearts and lives, maybe even souls
Add it to the list
Of horrible events
That weave the fabric
That clothes these tragic lives