I was so sly, even under lock and key I made my for thee. I was stealthy as the lights went out. You were all liquored up, how were you to know if I came upon the key you kept from me?  Swift, and quiet as a mouse. My stature quite beneficial as I made way for your side of the bed. For your hammered snores so disruptive, masked my tiptoes through the maze of your musical equipment. At one point using your guitar case as a stepping stone, amusing myself. Lara Croft had nothing on me (so stealthy), in my gait. Steps of hate lead my path. You layed there like a bag of bones, drunk beyond even my belief. “Theif you have my key”!  What a fool I thought as I was right over your head, if not for the snorts coming from your face I would think you were dead. Who were you to keep the key, and lock my health away from me? My want grew more, and more for I was in need to be restored. The closer I was to that tiny silver passport, I knew my plight would soon be swallowed. Soaring as my body warmed with liquid wellness to my Wuthering Heights. All this in the stillness of the night. 

I was so rougish in all my routine. From start to finish, it was all for replenish. On your bar band nights out, how would you know what I was about? I was always left behind, “I will show you to leave me here”. For in all your scuffle and loading up your gear, all you were was in wait for your first beer. Hurry up be on your way, for I have need for my own dark pleasure. No need for measure, just want to dump it in. Shovel the liquid into my skin. For you would come home with your nights stink, and all the monies spent. You would be none the wiser if I went off on my own bent. I was already in my own fantasy world, curled up tight in pretend that all was well. No way in your drunken caper you could hone in on me. In all actuality we were our own hell. Death but a doorbell away, but hey who cares. All in the stillness of the night. 

Crafty I was too, for I shared the artist in you. Drawing up my own plans to take me off to Never Never Land. “What”? “Oh you thought you had all the flair “? “Why how enduring, you are so cute in your cloak (makes we want to choke)!” “How sweet for you to overlook the deviance in me.” For here, now comes the con in me. I have ways unbeknownst to you, to come about my very own colorful pleasing pallet. Now there lies the talent. Have no fear, my liquor awaits. It is a store, and snatch from the stow-away beneath my purse bottom. Oh that hurse passing on my merry way home, must be coming for you. Yes for the likes of you always thinking yourself superior, more like inferior. “Lofty”, I scoffed. All in the stillness of the night. 

All the years the locusts away, I now have back by the loving hand of my Lord. I don’t know about you? I hope for our kids sake, you found your way to the gardens gate. It is a retreat, to sit and bask at his feet. Now when the rushing of storm is to no avail, my medicine is found drinking in the scriptures. I open my Bible as I lay my head on my pillow, and ask on my Lord to carry me off to a sleep so deep. I find great rest, and health with him (my father). To him I am never a bother. For there I can weap. He takes all my weariness, wipes my tears, and gives back all the years the locusts ate away. I am very well now being out of our hell. No get better soon Hallmark, in need for me. I wish you godspeed. We were just no good together. We could never make our way no matter what the weather. I found a man whom does not have need for that blackest of drinks, and does not cause my feet to stumble. A new love, and no Stealthmode required. We have nothing to hide for in our Lord we both abide. I pray for our kids sake one day you will say the same. All in the stillness of the night.  

Word Prompt: better


Author: Lisa O'Day, Cries from an unkempt garden

I write to tell my story of how I overcame self affliction, and great despair in this life. For I write to share the death to self that took place. That I may Glorify God in all I do. May my writings be a refelction of freedom, for I am no longer in captivity of self. May they be warm, and inviting. For I write because God has given me words that drip from my mouth to be seen.

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