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Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Knife in My Heart

by melanie jean juneau (writer), Greenbush, Ontario, Canada, December 03, 2013

Credit: redskinletters.blogspot.com
my name was etched on the handle

The mountain of work was thrown into the sea by a mustard seed of common sense because there was no mountain except in my self-pitying delusions of martyred grandeur.

I stood at the sink,

pain lancing my chest,

sobbing silently,

tears blinding me as I tackled a mound of dirty dishes.

Exhaustion weighed heavy,

my arms like stone.

11:00pm.

I was alone, disconnected

Isolated.

I could almost see the knife

piercing my heart.

There was a name on the handle;

I strained my inner eye,

expecting to see my husband's name carved in the wood

But No!

I tried to manipulate the letters but I could not force them to spell his name.

The etched letters

clearly spelled Melanie.

My eyes widened,

I literally gasped in shock.

Truth pierced,

dissolving the knife and the sharp pain with it into insubstantial mist.

I was the architect of my misery,

a dramatic self-made victim,

acting like a pitiful scapegoat.

Reality made me smile.

An inner switch flipped.

Misery slipped off like useless rags

The mountain of work thrown into the sea by a mustard seed of common sense because there was no mountain except in my self-pitying delusions of martyred grandeur.

lf-depreciating laughter,

Cutting through Stress.

A Strange Calm.

Strength.



About the Writer

My husband and I raised 9 children on a hobby farm and discovered fulfilment and joy.The very existence of a joyful mother of nine children seems to confound people. My writing is humourous and heart warming/ thoughtful and thought provoking with a strong current of spirituality running through it.
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