the Conclusion (adult theme)

This is a four-part poem:  silent but Screaming, the Aftermath, the Consequences, and this final installment, the Conclusion.  I wish there was a happier ending, but I've come to realize that life is what it is.  Some things, no matter how much time has passed, will always be painful.  My sincere thanks to those of you who have followed me along this series, providing your honesty and support.  ~ Ronda

eight years latera new life and love,support she has learned to understandalong with the realization she is worthy of itheld until she was strong enough to standbut never alone a child who will never know the roads she has traveledjust as innocent as the two before himthey have been her reason and purposeall those moments she might have surrenderedto that lingering darkness beneath her surface time does not heal all painshe hates the phrase, the implications, the ideawounds close with scar tissue, twisted and deepwith an ache that awakens when least expected a busy break room, women having lunch and conversingshe sat at a table with three others, listening as they discussedpolitics and religiondo they not know it is never a good idea to mix the two?when suddenly the word leaves one mouth,landing on the table with an audible thud I am the only one who heard it and felt the blow it hit with the weight of a fist in her chestinvisible hands strangling her, silently gaspingstruggling to appear normal, unaffectedas the conversation proceeded, words resonating murder, wrong, inexcusable, adoption, options suddenly fighting that rising scream againmanaging to sit there, to wait for the table to emptyuntil she could stand, making her way to the bathroomslow....motion....eternityclosing the door and facing the stranger in the mirrorthe ghost of one night eight years ago staring into her eyeswhispering, begging, fighting for control this time she won there are still nights when shadowy fingers windtendrils of poison memories released to lurk in her dreamsno amount of persuasion will ever erase one reprehensible mistakeno argument silences one voice, one phrase reiterating through her mind the mother of three cherished, happy, beautiful boysan unfounded conviction ... ... I destroyed my only daughter