The End of What Never Was by Nicola O’Hanlon

 

Painting by Arna Baartz

I’m done with looking for answers,

and staring at your face for signs

that I just might be valuable.

Starving for some glimmer of hope,

convinced I see one I’d run with it for days

greedily devouring it to keep me

high enough to support my

happy ever after dream,

but that dream was

always less than I deserve.

There’s never enough time or money

or opportunity to love me Is there?

Always a million fucking miles away

in another poxy galaxy

where I’m the alien, the strange one

the circus entertainment afforded worthless platitudes

or beaten down and isolated by hate.

But there’s always words,

coming from every corner of our minds,

only you can’t survive on them for long.

We all string words together

like pretty delicate daisy chains

so they appear to mean something beautiful.

Now your pretty isn’t pretty to me anymore

no fake bullshit nonsense whipped up

to keep you happy.

Fuck you and your expectations of me.

All the shit you screamed and screamed into

my open mind emptied itself out somewhere.

I’m not turning myself inside out for you anymore

nor waiting for your “that’s acceptable” nod of the head.

I’m not listening to your warnings of danger

nor threats to leave,

you know where the door is.

Now you fear what you tried to suppress,

The WOMAN, the ESSENCE of THE DIVINE.

I survive, The WARRIOR QUEEN of my own life.

I pour my children into this world

to cleanse the filth with which you ruled.

It is their beauty and brilliance

Which you cannot fathom.

Well look closely my love.

THEY COME FROM ME.

-Nicola O’Hanlon, an excerpt from Single Mothers Speak on Patriarchy