Dedicated to all those whose daily lives are touched by a family member or friend with autism or Asperger syndrome, with a special dedication to those who endure the trials of living with someone with a huge attitude problem and who verbally abuses. There's sure to be a special place in heaven for those who bear this burden.
It is my sincere hope that I have do not offend anyone with the rawness of my emotions in reaction to what are a very complicated and serious set of medical conditions. It may seem that I am not informed or lack expertise in the subject at hand, therefore do not “understand” the reasons for my husband’s behavior. I do indeed understand, and if this work seems lacking in compassion, please remember it is purely cathartic. The writing has been my only outlet and I would probably be in a home somewhere had I not been able to let off steam. Indeed, my experiences have greatly enhanced my compassion for the multitude of others who cope with this darkness and, like me, find themselves isolated from society and any chance of a normal, happy life. It is my belief that speaking the truth, however ugly, is the only way to clear understanding.
Dear Husband,
starlings dive over the chimney
on days of your finely timed breaks, my
only relief a band of cardinals to distract you
while I grab a bag, toss things in the car,
slide in, heart pounding at the fury
you spew for no earthly reason
I fumble for keys as you fall on the ground and
roll under the tires to block any
thought of my departure
trembling, I sit there gripping the wheel
while deciding whether this is
imagined or real, if this is you having just
another tantrum or breaking down finally
in a loud crack of broken nuts to be
strewn on the yellow straw
I calculate if I can afford all those years in
the slammer if I went ahead and made your day
and peeled out over your thin bones
Sliding out to look at your face and see if
anyone's home, I am saved by a soaring moth who
reminds me I could fly away, not stay here
to be pulverized under your stony boots and dodge
your barrage of thrown things
and absorb your screamed obscenities
but then I envision you living under a bridge, unable
to fend for yourself, and deny myself even
that vengeful joy
frozen in grief, I look up at shimmering light through
the trees and sob at the rainbows
glinting off spiderwebs
and pretend I smell sweet rolls from a nearby oven
and that it's Spring and my beautiful roses are
once again on the trellis
if only I could recant those vows, make a signed statement,
confess, inform, sell out, anything to escape
this bloody unending hell
oh, for the day that you have croaked, finally,
and dished yourself up in a wonderful stew reserved
for the gods of plague, and I no longer have to see you,
taste you, smell you or remember you
or explain you or even myself, for having loved
you in spite of you
and I would weep...not for myself, but for
all that you could have been if we'd just found
the right help out of all that endless, endless sea
of healers who, sadly, could not
XX
Dear Husband,
the sea of thwarted flights
breaks on shore, boldly throws
up a spume for the sand
to absorb
city-bound, tempted
to jettison all hope, we seek
solace of water, plod
down dunes out of sight
and the sky winks and clouds tangle
as if that fertile abyss might
might be somehow more
than a grave
in the limbs of
the wind-tortured thicket,
the strands that bind one
branch to another hold no
sway over death - nor can they
match our surly bond,
more gasping than the
open sea
the destruction you carry
is carved within, binding you to me
stronger than any love, and I
cannot escape the tearing crash,
scrape and rustle of your blind
gropings and janglings
they flare as a fueled pyre,
then recede again and again like the tides,
as once when I, thinking you were healed,
saw you turn, sweep the unruly lock
from your forehead, wave to me...and
enter the dark
XX
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