Not in Dublin
Not in Dublin
The worst part
was when they looked away
at the Liffey in the dark.
Darker than your eyes got
thicker than the blood you spat
harder than you hit me.
The River Liffey flowed into blackout
like the night would swallow us up
but I was left there to remember.
How the child in me had learned
to shrink down
when facing a roaring freight train.
How it’s nobody’s business
when you’re a nobody
and calling for help makes it worse.
Shall we blame the whiskey?
Shall we say it’s better to care
when violence happens in Tibet?
Not in Dublin
not in my black dress
not without my name.
Fine work, Maria. My immediate family and I are Americans, but a large part of our hearts are in Dublin, and strongly with the tradition of Irish literature. In fact, we annually celebrate Bloomsday!
Thank you, Andrew! I also have Irish heritage on my dad’s side (Costello is Irish). I loved Dublin and found the people there to be so genuinely friendly and hospitable. I was there during the Dublin Theatre Festival and I enjoyed seeing two plays at The Abbey Theatre. I hope to go back and visit soon. 🙂
After nearly one year of No Contact and three years after the incident, I decided to write a poem about the first time my ex-friend, who I now know has an Anti-Social Personality Disorder diagnosis, dropped the mask and showed their true colors to me. At the time nobody, including me, knew what we were dealing with. The abuse that I’ve written about happened during a gala, when no one was looking or paying attention. The abuser blacked out and has no memory of the incident. The gravity of what happened stayed with me all this time. I’ve written this poem not just to get it out, but hopefully to inspire other survivors of Psychopathic Abuse to use their creative talents to speak their Truth and heal.