Little Ron: How.Could.You?

it's not easy. i have lost motivation and impetus to propel me forward into the new day. a bit stuck in the molasses of transitional spaces. wrote a poem the other day while spending time away from the interference of visual media:

how. could. you?
how could you leave me
alone at the door
in the cold
with the rain
pelting down my back?

how. could. you?

how could you?
how could you leave me like that
in a nest
of relentless
suffocating
dark devices

wondering

where were you?
i pounded and pawed
scratched and i clawed
for you to come
but my pleas
pregnant with hope
dashed in slow motion
to the ground
as the sinking revelation
overtook me
like an unwitnessed death
this terrible truth

there was no you

i was alone

how could you?

how.

could.

you?

in the trance of this poem, i was empathizing with my brother in law's dog who loves to yelp and whine when she wants let into the house. my trance made me identify with her feelings of abandonment, and i realized as i was writing the poem that it was being written to several people: my mother, first.

i wrote it to my mother to express the sense of abandonment felt as a young child ron. ron the infant and ron the toddler. stuck in a playpen, an unengaged and passive watcher. wanting desperately to be let out, to join in the fun and festivities with her and my older brother. but nope, i was just left there to witness the blossoming relationship between my mother and my older brother, my perp. yea, i imagined myself inside the brain of that dog and i could definitely relate.