Blue Poem by Theresa Haffner

sitting in the parked car
in the parking lot outside Pioneer Market at 12: 30 A.M.
writing in my notebook on blue paper
by the dim light of the overhead streetlight
because it was better than being home with you
emotionally tormenting each other like we were
gouging our hearts out with sticks

i have written by flashlight, pen light,
dome light and glove compartment light
until the batteries were worn out
and the beam had diminished to a
faded dull glow
because writing puts me in touch
with my feelings, and that’s
something I can’t do
while we brutalize
each other
playing heavy duty mind control games
or you just try to manipulate me like a piece of meat
a necessary evil, or
like i had no feelings at all

i have written in the back seat, the front
seat, on the bus stop
bench,
by candle flame,
outdoor floodlights operated remote control on timers,
and the rare streaks of the moon

because frankly i am pretty much of an emotional wreck
i have been
mentally conditioned by repeated episodes
of emotional overkill and self destructive behavior
that I no longer have the belief
in the successful outcome of any project
or the worth of any endeavor

i will sit in all night diners and outdoor donut shops
writing on notebooks, wrapping paper, magazine covers,
paper napkins, or scraps of torn up newspaper,
using worn down pencils or any kind of stylus
that will
engrave an image
illuminated by flashing neon signs,
smudged incandescents
or the light of setting stars

and i will stay here all night long
because home isn’t really home
i have been emotionally battered,
undermined in my basic emotional
security, and traumatized to the point i can no longer
believe in myself

and ‘til the morning light over
cold coffee cups

i won’t have to see your face