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A thick, white smog crept through the park that night,
that one color besides black.
Occasionally, street lamps would beam around like wheels
but the lights burned strangely dim.
 
"Let's shoot the breeze, " he said. And so she did, biding time ;
clinching from the gripped touch as he drew her in his arms
And a single lamplight  faintly lit the darkness. 

"I'll never make you cry again."His words, his gravel tone... 
Her hair flew with the dusky trail of bleak dusk
tangled as raven's wings hiding a face, wet with tears
as icy shiver trembled down the back of her spine. 

Lit smoke flickered before it sat to rest on his cigarette tip. 
"Will you quit stalling?" he raged. Words, words...cheap.
Her locked  heart did not respond till he reversed his track. 
"Don't you know, you are most attractive thing I ever had?", 
he gently cooed...Thing? An object. 

"I'll do as you wish,dearest," his hands stroking her arms...
No!..I want to feel the highest peak of love, she told herself
I want to taste the breath's spirit against my cheeks, 
feeling gentleness on my face; to land and melt on my nose 
as I look up to the sky. I want to jump into mighty waters 
and reach incredible depths of all that authentic love is.
 
She whispered, "It doesn't matter what I want?",
Her head stoops slightly forward, dazed eyes looking back 
at a yet evasive glance. Unemotional, stoic.
 
It's over. 
 
As if on cue, she rewinds the ambulance car that brought
her dead husband to the ER. She recalled how he relished
eveything that she was, the way she sang out of tune
and whistled out a sports cheer...
The heart-woman who cried at the opera 
and let loose to rock and roll,feeling  free twirling around
under the thunder and lightning of a spectacular downfall. 


This listless flesh was the one who ran barefoot with her
through fields at night, catching dragonflies and making 
wishes before returning them to flight.
 
And he is dead.
 
Twilight peeps now as she realizes a grim reality
walking with her head hung low and submitting
to all this man needed in a click of a finger...
An inner voice crawls, "What's the difference between
love and co-dependence? She doesn't speak, knowing
her final truth...
 
But, it's over. 

She drops on her knees rocking back and forth,
humming a lullabye.


---------

“ Many codependents, at some time in their lives, 
were true victims – of someone's abuse, neglect, abandonment... 
But “rescuing is not an act of love... we don't assume 
responsibility for our highest responsibility – ourselves."
~Melody Beattie, Author, 'Codependent No More'

Heather Ober's Moment of Truth Contest 
by nette onclaud
~based on relatioship issues from 
my counseling work
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