Isn't it Wonderful?

i don't know where this came from.

Isn’t it wonderful, this place?

How this small and often forgotten place, can bring back so many memories?

How this place can take you way-way back?

Isn’t it wonderful how you remember the stories your mother used to tell you about this place?

How she would bathe your little baby body after your messy meal.

How she would make the sounds of a tugboat as you splashed around in the water.

How she would give you a temporary hairstyle with the milky white bubbles that surrounded you.

Isn’t it wonderful how you remember your father training you?

How he would rush you in here when you tugged on his shirt and crossed your feet.

How he would smile and cheer when you were done.

How he would be so proud and give you a cookie for becoming a big kid.

Isn’t it wonderful how every time you look into the mirror you remember the phases you had gone through?

Every single one of them.

How you remember your face changing.

How you would sigh in the mirror as you were unhappy with what you had to see every day.

Isn’t it wonderful how you remember hearing your parents fighting through the thin door?

How you could hear them screaming at each other.

How your father would break a dish or two and then storm out to go drinking.

How your mother would break down and cry to herself on the kitchen floor.

Isn’t it wonderful how remember going to this place to cry to yourself in the shower about your mother?

How you would mix your tears with the warm water that ran down your body.

How you would try to scrub off the stench of your father’s cigarettes.

How you would break down after looking at yourself in the mirror as you thought about your mother and how you have her eyes.

Isn’t it wonderful how you can still hear your father banging on the door as he screamed your name?

How he would slur his words at you while he grabbed you

How he would smile at you when he saw you in your towel.

How he would lock the door behind him just before he backed you into the corner.

Isn’t it wonderful, this place?

How this blade slides just as easily across your skin as your tears do down your cheeks.

How quickly the red mixes with the water, staining this small and often forgotten place.

Reviews

[Bare trees]

Wow. As I started to read this poem I thought to myself this may be about her remembering her happy youth. Then, WAM, what happened?

This is scary and filled with horror because I can understand and sympathize with what you went through.

I don't think there are any reviews because readers misjudged the beginning and saw the length.

This is written very well.