Tag Archives: denial

In truth


He could no longer see the goodness, feel the warmth from the light that emanated from within her; no longer cared or believed her claims of love. For the vile hurtful words of truth penetrated deep, daggers slung with precision, straight to the heart. But instead of pulling them out and assessing the damage his truth perpetuated, in an attempt to heal his own wounds and those he inflicted on others, he preferred to leave them there to fester, become diseased, possibly be the death of him; so he could once again coast on pity, feigning the victim, while easing his conscience in convincing himself that she was just like all the rest. When in truth, there had never been another like her, nor would there ever be again.

©2013 jillterry | jillterry.com

Single thought


Not a single thought was given when he opened the first bottle just a little past noon, savored the flavor and called it lunch. By three his productivity was lagging and he looked at the clock, wondering if he’d make the five o’clock deadline or just make a quick call and push out delivery till tomorrow.

Not a single thought was given when he stuck one in the drink koozie for the forty-five minute drive ahead, slightly staggering once he reached home. Ten minutes of nonsensical conversation with the wife then stop off at the fridge for another on the way out to the man cave. Half a bottle later and he was done.

Not a single thought was given when his son returned from his date, coming through the back instead of the front, finding him slouched in his recliner, head hanging as if his neck was made of rubber.

“Did you see your father?”
“Yea, he was sleeping.”

She shook her head and asked how his evening went, knowing full well he was passed out cold, but saying so would only incite a defensive leap of denial, so she said nothing instead.

An hour later she went out and looked on him, just to make sure he was still breathing, then returned to her room where she went to bed alone.

Not a single thought was given when he rolled out of bed the next morning, donned his biker wear and headed out for the day on two wheels. Leaving a hole in the screen where the cats could get out, a sink full of dishes she’d been looking at for a week; a courtyard taken over with vines and weeds, empty cupboards with nothing to eat.

She heard him coming down the road not long after he’d left, wondering if he realized there was much to be done and decided to stay and help instead; but he’d only run to the bank, walked in and put money on the dresser, told her he’d be back later, as he turned around and left.

Only a single thought was given when twelve hours later he returned, found her note that said she was done; went to the fridge and got himself a cold one, mumbled under his breath, “Crazy Bitch…”

©2013 jillterry | jillterry.com


So many years
Lifetimes it seems
So much muddy water
Under those burnt
Forgotten bridges

Modus operandi
Fly in like the wind
Come and go
Completely unknown

This time different
Everything shifted
With intent

Everywhere I go
Round every corner
No longer hidden
Painful haunting ghosts

Feeling a stranger
In a place too well known
Then appearing from nowhere
Making their presence known

The doe and the stag
Red tail hawk soaring
Within that magic hour
As if welcoming me home

But even though I’m reminded
Of people here that love me
This is far from my world
No longer my home

In a few short days
Will ride the wind again
Bask in southern sunshine
Search for sanctity resumes

©2011 Jill Terry


She walked into the room
Not knowing what day it was
Every aspect of her life
Seemingly a blur

A swirling mass of chaos
Contemptuous vibes
Hanging heavy in the air
Filling her lungs with every breath

Feeling as if she were choking to death

Once again the truth was told
Falling on the same deaf ears
Twisted and thrown back
Then just simply ignored

So much easier to shift blame
Than look inside and self assess
To create a palatable excuse or reason
Finding her fetal in the dark empty hall

Feigning ignorance in empty solutions
Remaining in that safe comfortable place
Rather than attempting the slightest change
Basking selfishly in the illusion of happiness

Not really caring what’s best for her at all

©2011 Jill Terry

Easter at the Vatican

At the manmade altar
Dressed in gold
As if possessing
A direct connection

To the Lord
Our God

Men of sin
Most sadistic
Vile unconscionable
Acts against the

Professing to the
Holy Father
To be on the side
Of God

Rallying for
In defiant
On this the
Holiest of days

A slap in the face
Of Jesus

Who suffered
At our hands
And weeps for
Our souls

Sexual abusers

Before God

By untold numbers
Of victims throughout
Our world

Impenetrable codes
Of secrecy and silence
May keep them
From the wrath
Of man

Pales to nothing
In the shadow

Of the wrath of God
They will be forced
To withstand

These are not
Men of God
They are demons

Hiding in the halls
Of God’s house
Preying on the weak
Trusting souls

© jillterry

Poem-a-day No.7

A path with heart

Standing on the edge
Looking on
Dark shadows shroud
The path

Those who would happily
Drag me down
Waiting to take
My hand

Following for a
Truth revealing itself
In darkened halls
I do not wish
To dwell

For though at
My soul grows
Darkness offering
Such sweet embrace

My heart overflows
This blinding
I no longer
Can deny


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