Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Excuses

Who am I
if not the wounded child
playing in gardens?
If not the hurt
misunderstood
and abandoned
daughter
hiding in closets
and
sitting at recesses alone?
I have served these roles
so well,
sucked down the juice
of sorrow
and wallowed in self-pity
for so long
that I have completely forgotten
who I am.
I can point to you,
and say
you are the reason I am not,
have never been,
will never be.
You are what has kept me from being
all that I am.
What a wonderful excuse
you have been.