The Cleaning Lady (*Trigger Warning*)

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

She lacked an abundance of goodness, only disappointment

Luck lacking…in relationships, in careers, and in living

Never enough, always discarded like trash

Replaceable, expendable, unneeded…

Pain fills her with a void, empty

His impression still setting on her mind, conflicted

Depression sets in, overwhelming sadness developed

With each swish of the sponge on the mirror, repelling

And with each sweep of her broom on the floor, exhausting

She just wanted to be finished…

It was absurd to keep going…a breath in.

And she went to her darkest day… a breath out.

“Things must get better”, she says…

While her reflection abrogates her essence, disheartening

Gullible feelings in her mind, injure self-worth

“Why is life so hectic?” She cries…humiliated

Please make it stop, these feelings inside…”

She pleads in a caterwaul tone, yelling

Into the mirror… her face turns red, angry

A grimace should have a smile, she’s flustered

Her lips still feel his mustache, memorable

The regret of refusing that last french kiss

Her anger explodes like fireworks, heartbreak

Kick it, punch it, be tenacious, be fierce

No toasts of champagne, loneliness

The New Year’s celebration gone, abandoned

A yellow taxi escorts her home, staggering

She gave up and never went inside, done.

Goodnight…goodbye…whichever works for you.”

She never felt the agony of losing him again…resolved.

© E.M. Kingston 2022 – All Rights Reserved.


This was written using Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s Wordle #272 (italicized), Sammi Scribbles Weekend Writing Prompt #242, Three Things Challenge (linked and bold), and several word challenges and prompts (linked words in the poem). Please visit their blogs and show them some love.

wk 242 goodnight

2010 – Story Starter #16

Fandango has a weekly Story Starter to get us writing some new goodies on our blogs, and it’s a great way to get a story started and be inspired to write.

This week’s Story Starter teaser is:

It was in the spring of 2010 when I first realized that I could…

free myself from the grips of a man who will never like me, let alone love me. I had thought in the beginning that he was the perfect one for me, but I could not have been more wrong. He was toxic, and I knew I needed to get away from his narcissisms. A chance came about where he went to jail for not paying his child support, and I made the attempt to keep him away. One of my friends drove all the way from Michigan to come and help me out. He had left me financially broken, which was not something that was new. I never had my own money, only his. That’s another way of many that he controlled me, with money. The other ways were with cars and forcing me to take drugs.

I had many different vehicles that he sold or trashed that belonged to me only for short moments. When he bought a vehicle for himself, it would be a manual transmission, since he knew I could not drive a stick. It required too much coordination, and I was not a fan of shifting gears. I was more of a put it into gear and go kind of girl. This disadvantage of mine, he used to his advantage to keep me home like a hermit. My only refuge away from the loneliness was my online gaming and social media. That wasn’t so bad, I guess. I got to interact with people who I found to be decent people, but I just had a small group of friends that could never save me from my solitude. It was what it was, but I knew I needed to get away or push him out.

As if the control with money and cars wasn’t enough, he then started bringing home drugs and telling me I was so fat that I needed to do them. When you are under control of another person, the manipulation of your mental health is easy, so I complied due to my self-hate that I already had about myself. He used my own issues with myself against me, and I did what he said. He brought home meth, and I either snorted it or smoked it. It would keep me up for days though, which was almost a good side effect to the drugs. I’m not proud of the fact that I did not have the willpower to not do them, but they saved me from a lot of sexual abuse while sleeping. If I wasn’t asleep, he couldn’t get at me like he normally did. I embraced that fact about the meth. It saved me a little bit from more abuse.

When he got put in jail, everything was a little less heavy, and I went to visit him to tell him that he was not allowed to come home. At this time, we were not legally married, and I owned the house and land that we lived on. My mom gave it to me in an attempt to keep me from ever being homeless. My friend, who we will just call T.G., helped me with a few bills and finding my love of coffee. He showed me another world. Sadly, it was short-lived because I was scared of my ex, and I didn’t want T.G. to get hurt or for me to get hurt either. I sent him away and took the loser back when he got out of jail. I was too scared. I failed at this attempt to leave him or push him out.

There would be three other attempts, with third time being a charm, to get away from him. That is how I ended up in California. He moved onto the next victim. I still feel like I failed at escaping him sometimes because he got rid of me, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I found myself here.

If you have ever been in this situation or are in a situation like this, get out! There are many resources to help you, and I never knew about them. There are shelters that hide you from your abuser, and there are people that will help you get free. Don’t let them abuse you like I did. You may fail the first attempt at freedom, but keep trying until you succeed.

xoxo, E.M.

Fandango’s Provocative Question #137 from E.M.

This week, Fandango’s Provocative Question, is asking:

Have you ever been to a clothing-optional (nude) venue, such as a beach, resort, club, party, etc? If so, what did you think of the experience? Would you do it again? If not, would you ever consider going to a clothing-optional gathering? Why or why not?

My Answer:

I have never been to a venue where clothing is optional, but I do not know that I would ever feel comfortable going to such a venue due to my own viewpoints about myself. My self-esteem is not strong enough to strut across a beach or sit at a table naked and feel normal. I would find myself worrying about everyone else judging me because that is how my life has been my entire life. “You need a diet” or “Putting on a few extra pounds there, eh?” Those are the normal things I grew up with. My dad was very body conscious and never was out of shape. When I started putting on pounds, he began being critical of me. I still feel the effects.

The Rhythm of My Chaos

Yesterday’s word challenges (September 23, 2021) were effort from the Daily Spur, suggest from Fandango, another day from Ragtag, and needles from Word of the Day Challenge via Cyanny. The poetry style I will be using is another Laura Lamarca style called La’ritmo. It was pretty cool that the words are all cohesive with one another and should be easy to correlate together in creativity and in the type of day that I had. I don’t like being late, but I always show up…even if I am late *smiles*.

Today’s word challenges (September 24, 2021) will also be on this post, and they are passion from Daily Spur, lecture from #FOWC, lamp from RDP, and anemone from the Word of the Day challenge via Melanie B. Cee.

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It was supposed to be a normal, routine day
Waking, to the nothingness and quiet, I pray
Sometimes to no avail, but I always plead out
The rhythm of my chaos wins, without a doubt

Another day would have been better than that served
More effort extended, my intentions now curved
My triggers standing on end, seeking to obtain clout
The rhythm of my chaos wins, without a doubt

Surrounded by feelings, tears suggest I may care
The environment around me steals all the air
Thick and suffocating, the toxicity stout
The rhythm of my chaos wins, without a doubt

The way that they hate me is needless and obtuse
My mouth zipped shut without speaking, no more abuse
My unwanted voice silences to stop debate
The toxicity wins, my feelings desiccate

The needing to end my suffering and torment
Never-ending pain, like soft skin pounding cement
These emotions are raw and hard to navigate
The deep toxicity wins, the soul to desiccate

The normal girl full of passion and much desire
Saves her soul from this world, filled with that of hellfire
The lantern of my eyes fade and soul chips like slate
The deep toxicity wins, the soul to desiccate

Like an anemone, stinging me by the touch
This is all weighing too heavy on me, too much
Twisting and turning, there has to be a new route
The rhythm of my chaos wins, without a doubt

Normal sounds blissful like a fairy tale ending
Can you not realize the thoughts my head are upending
Another lecture, uninvited, I can never take that bait
The deep toxicity wins, the soul to desiccate

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xoxo, E.M.

How Do I See Me?

I am at it again…with my combined word challenges *giggles*

Todays words will be drop by Daily Spur, lethal by Ragtag Daily Prompt, boutique by Fandango’s One Word Challenge, and sparkling from Word of the Day via Kristian. I will be doing the Lannet poetry style today, which is a 14-line, 10 syllable count line, no-rhyming sonnet by made by Laura Lamarca. As always, be sure to go to these pages and show some love while challenging yourself to be creative!

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On days like these, opinions vary, strife
As much as I wish to see sparkling, happy, free
The mirror, at times, is my nemesis
My self-esteem towards my view is lethal
Like time is rushing fast, I see wrinkles
Curved around my lip like an hourglass
My teeth gone like yesterday’s terrible news

My body screams when I struggle into tight-fit jeans
My favorite ones from my favorite boutique, sighing strongly
I feel my head drop down in shame, affliction
Who was this girl who had gotten so round?
I choke, I cry, I fall to my knees, defeat
My power and esteem stuck in the past
How I miss the days of being blissful….

#Ragtag Daily Prompt

Beautiful?

Sometimes I get out of bed feeling good, and I put myself together feeling beautiful, accomplished, and happy. I try to start a new day better than the last, and that’s how I have been healing myself.

Then we have the days that I cannot bear my own reflection, and the day follows the same pattern. These are the days spent with the misery of past relationships, trauma, and abuse. I could write a book of everything and everyone who have killed seeing myself as a beautiful woman. These days are hard to heal.

The worst part of being a caring and thoughtful human being with empath skills is that you break easier and harder than the rest of the population that is considered “normal”. When someone causes pain to someone like myself, the first place it strikes is at the head of insecurities and weaknesses.

For me, those insecurities and weaknesses are contained within my self-image and vanity. I have never been a vain person, but I would rather look in the mirror and see myself as beautiful no matter who threw crap in my face. Some days are better than others, but I always hear my demons roar.

Today was an ugly day. I’m ready for a pretty one.