I can’t say the m word (SW)

I Can’t Say the M Word (SW)

In the midst of a happy family, there lays corruption beneath.
You see, growing up I only had one parent in mind.
Kids thought it was weird that I talked about my father the way I did,
So highly.
Teachers thought I was corrupted because when they would give me that
“Talk about your parents” activity, I would only admire and speak on my fatherly figure.
I remember when I gave that paper to my teacher and heard a,
“What the hell.”

Now, look..
That doesn’t mean I didn’t speak on my…
Well, you know what I’m saying.
I did, I did,
In ways to hide the false reality she was projecting.
Years go by,
And I slowly open my eyes
To what would be a horror story in real life.
The murderer was one who was supposed to be the protector,
But instead, betrayed, as Lucifer did the Lord.

I was still a kid when the M word hurled words,
Words I thought only hatred itself could say
Towards me,
Towards my siblings.
Fight or flight, mind racing, hands now clenched to a fist,
I feel my muscles tighten, lungs open,
Eyes darting around, looking for my next move,
My body ready to prove! Prove that I’m no child!
But no.
I stand there and look,
All of a sudden, calm.
But why?

I look at my brother.
His tears screaming from his eyes.
Then at my sister,
Pure fear, hands motioning back and forth on her arms as if she was trying to soothe herself,
As if what was once her M word
Had changed into a monster amongst the town,
Destroying everything in its path,
Feeding off emotions and spitting them back out onto you.

Silence.
A silence so loud,
You think you hear the whispers of the particles in the atmosphere.
The experience of sheer terror lodged in the crevices of your brain.
A boomerang of “loving and caring”
To all of a sudden, it’s Judas kissing you on your cheek.

Now…
Now I can’t say the M word.
I don’t want to think it.
Every time my lips try to form the word, it’s stuck.
Stuck at the M—M- Mo-
“You know who I’m talking about.”
I don’t have the usual love for her as sweet as a dove,
At this point, I don’t think I have any at all.
I don’t have that special place in my heart that loves her
Like every young man has had since he was a boy.

But there was a time,
Before the hatred dripped from her mouth like venom,
A look in her eyes I could never forget, it felt as if I was looking into the eyes of a demon,
Two pits of darkness never so vibrant.
I used to think love existed there,
Somewhere hidden deep beneath the jagged edges of her.
There were moments where I would search for it,
In her eyes, in her voice, in the touch that once soothed.
But each time I looked,
It slipped further away
A memory,
A lie I told myself to sleep at night.

The M word,
The one that always said in a fit of anger, “I birthed you, you’re MY son,”
Held me as an infant.
She was supposed to be warmth,
But instead turned cold like stone.
She was supposed to protect,
But sharpened her words like knives, ready for use.
She was supposed to love.
But instead,
I became the enemy.

And isn’t that the worst betrayal?
To be born into love,
Only to be forced out of it,
To have the very thing you were meant to trust
Shatter in your hands,
Leaving behind nothing but shards you can’t piece back together?

I watched as my brother crumbled falling for her traps.
Watched as my sister trembled, searching for escape,
And now copes in many different ways, thinking to herself, “What could I have done differently?”
It’s not your fault.
And I think,
What did we do to deserve this?
What crime have we committed that our existence feels like a punishment
Under the gaze of the one who should have been a person you could look up to?

I used to dream that one day as a kid
She’d turn back,
That the monster would leave her body,
And I would finally hear the word ‘sorry’ fall from her lips.
But even if she did, it wouldn’t be genuine,
But an attempt at winning me over so she could continue feasting off my energy
Until I became one of her puppets.

Now I know that day won’t come.
And maybe that’s why I can’t say it.
The M word,
Because it doesn’t mean the same thing anymore.
It doesn’t mean love.
It doesn’t mean safety.
It doesn’t mean home.
It’s an empty word,
A ghost of something that could have been,
But never was.

And so I stay silent,
Because in that silence,
I’m safe from the lies,
From the memories that haunt me,
From the false hope I once held.

But deep down,
I know I used to search.
Waiting.
Waiting for the M word to become something real.
For her to become what she was supposed to be.
Looking for what I was supposed to have in the M word in others.
But I know,
As much as I’ve tried to bury it,
That day will never come.

Objection in the court of my soul, and I rebuke the negativity that she ensues.
Now I’m older, my father is the only one who has to show what a parent is supposed to be.
A best friend.
A mentor.
Loving.
Caring.
One you can always go to.

I don’t need no M word.

And so, I remain.

Silent.
Thinking there’s that one word I’ll never say

Because love was never there.

- Robert Jordan