The Scarlet Macaw

According to the International Affairs section of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service webpage, Scarlet Macaws are, "the largest of this 'iconic' species of parrots. Their vivid scarlet red, azure blue, and bright, sharp yellow feathers are highly sought after to be used in rituals by poachers - only one reason why they are protected as an endangered species, besides habitat loss, and illegal pet trading and breeding. They are reported to have loud vocalizations, and are mostly vegetarian. Interestingly enough, these birds are considered, 'left-handed' with their left claw being dominate to crush the hard nuts and fruits they subsist on. They are highly intelligent, social and beautiful birds, who form lifelong, monogamous bonds with their mates. They often live in packs in the wild - where they can live up to 50 years. Scarlet Macaws are under threat of conservation, and considered a protected, endangered species due mainly to loss of the habitation they subsist on and poachers - who seek out the beautiful birds for their feathers or to sell in the illegal pet trade - where they often die during transport. This complicates conservation efforts further, as they typically only reproduce one to two chicks per year. They are native to the tropical forests of Mexico, Central America, and South America." [FSV.gov]. [Google].

The following is a poem written by a girl that feels more like a 'Scarlet Letter', which is, "a novel written by Nathaniel Hawthorne in 1850, about a woman who had a child out of wedlock," according to Britannica.com. I had to read THAT piece of groundbreaking fiction for my American Literature class in high school. I wrote the following poem quite some time after the 'nightmare' that was high school... It has nothing to do with Scarlet Macaws or the novel. However, I DO note some interesting similarities and contrasts between the Scarlet Macaw - being a loud parrot with striking scarlet feathers, seeking out a lifelong mate, the contentious novel, the poem that follows, and the girl who wrote it - who has never been pregnant, married or had a child. She still feels like she stands out like a Scarlet McCaw or Scarlet Letter in her new hometown. The poem is called, "At Midnight in December". It started sometime in 2016 or 2017, and has been edited and revised many times to this very writing...

AT MIDNIGHT IN DECEMBER

On the clearest of all nights ... in the middle of the winter...

I remember walking with him... at midnight in December...

I'd never seen stars shine so clear ... or felt the future was so bright...

I never thought the man who said he'd kill for me...

Would turn and take my life...

Scalding water from his sponge ... was dripping down my back...

A 26 bruise count on Sunday ... turned 37 Monday...

I knew that I'd lose track…

One smashed coffee pot ... from a single air raid blast…

Plus 200 pictures of laughter and madness...

Taken the exact day he snapped...

Whatever – if any – sanity that remained...

Were now settling stains - unarranged on the floor...

Silently making their mark on my carpet...

Like strange ancient ruins, that came long before...

Antiquity existed... or Father Time knew it...

Before the light of the Lord lit the world...

These once elegant, delicate, artifacts...

Are now relegated forever as mere “damaged goods”...

Caused initially by a traumatizing history...

And his decades spent mired in misery...

Sleeping on couches, Porta-Johns, or the woods...

Could I love that? Back then, of course I would…

Loving any game of suffering - self-hatred, rage, or drink...

All were games of Spades he mastered...

Not that it mattered to me...

Yet, still I found myself enamored...

Fascinated in enchanted fixation...

By the fractured factions of brain matter...

An enticing challenge of scattered sanity...

Spread out on a heavy platter....

Shiny silver... just for me!

If only I knew back then... all the things that I know now...

I'd unlock each slammed door with such ease...

I'd feel worthy... I'd feel proud...

Not a single word was said ... but how could I ignore?

The broken, scattered puzzle pieces screaming out across my floor?

If only I had paid attention to their begging, maybe I'd have learned...

In the midst of all their mourning, they tried helping

More concerned...

But I couldn't trust the voices in my mind...

Disguised that time as teachers...

I'd heard them all before.... there's nothing more...

Both ears bleeding from seats in the bleachers…

The sweet forbidden fruit... bearing his typically unique features...

Of a hideous beast, tucked beneath, that came forth...

Thirteenth stepping at a Chicago psych ward...

The most brilliant of all creatures… how could I ignore those eyes?

That lasered in on my foolish weakness... I fell for that disguise...

‘Twas all hidden behind red signs, long lines and shining masks…

Given time, the stars aligned, and from the lies emerged one man...

The perfection of an art - an act - a Master of Deception...

A calculating, quiet, psychotic riot - mark one down - A Sociopath…

Before the tidal wave of that dark storm...

Could ever crest and crash...

Revealing secrets in peacetime... there was ONE hidden crack...

That ruptured in its' weakness ... a broken, hairline fracture...

A tumor was forming... slowly but surely...

Like some sort of pediatric, congenital cancer...

A psychiatric demon must've feasted on his soul...

As it went off laughing, dancing...

While I dug a ditch, a grave, a hole...

As if his twisted spirit was his kingdom..

A foul beast ruling with iron fists…

His illness reigning with master control...

I cried out his name in blindness!

From the light of his dark soul and smart phone...

"Why?!" I screamed out, "WHY?"

"Why would you do THIS?!"

"Why? I love you!" "WHY?!"

"I LOVE YOU! WHY? WHY won’t you just HELP?!"

I shrieked out wildly... while his buddy violated me...

He looked on coldly smiling...

Burning my heart with a belt…

A psychiatric demon must've feasted on his soul...

As if his spirit was his kingdom – a foul beast within had all control...

His illness was the master - reigning, running, ruining, funneling...

Like a groundhog on it’s only day... a switch within me flipped...

Emotional numbness... still growing cold...

Nothing left but numbness...

There is no grand finale... despite the noted obvious symptoms…

Dismissed back then as sweet attributes ...

Of that glib and handsome sinner…

That took me on adventures ... as we shivered in the winter…

Walking to that gas station ... one cold midnight in December...

I'll never know just how he found...

That thinly veiled, but powerful line...

On the ground, near invisible , to a young suburban girl's naked eye…

He crossed it and the losses... are a logic now defined...

By the girl who walked in and out of this dimension’s borderline..

Nothing there will offer solace ...

To a heart that beats on broken...

Forgotten words I've never spoken...

I sang the track back... way off key...

He smile while I flatlined… it was Narcan Number Three...

A DNR! A DNR! Screamed the psycho soul in me...

Forget the false alarms... and forget all that you think...

Hear my roar... the phoenix soars...

Across this vacant, lonely screen...

He knew quite well the dangers ... he bragged about them all...

And I politely listened while the computers crashed and stalled...

A couple years too late ... he robbed me of my innocence....

A memory I can’t escape… despite my hero's sweet deliverance...

There's no clear warning sign, flashing bright or saying...

How bad bad truly gets.... when you’re labeled evil, crazy...

Keep going back, keep hoping, waiting....

Watching every system failing…

While the Scorpio goes off far sailing…

On this day I stand prevailing…

Next to the man that rescued me…

Even if 'X' marks the spot...

I sport just one, cheap thimble ring...

If my ex marks my one spot...

Then blindly I'll keep hoping...

Keep on showing... playing nice...

Now that he’s gone and fooled me twice...

No torment rains the flames of fury upon my lurid life...

One night I thought I'd want a dose ...

Of that intense insanity....

A brand so rare.... nothing compares ...

To how bad he damaged me...

Too hedonistic for addictions ... filled with guilt and shame...

Miss missus... gives this love... gives all... and gives herself away...

Love that reaches like a junky ... for syringes… to give blood...

Blame is pointless when it’s potent ...

Drop Dead’s instant - leap to hopeless....

Screams of jealousy would speak ...

If this was just another stupid scheme...

Why would they shout what they shout out...

So loud... so randomly?

Sometimes the easy’s obvious... as simple as should be...

But nothing’s ever simple when it comes to girl's like me…

If no real love was lost.... then all it meant was nothing...

I see the signals instantly...

Pathetic immaturity...

Whatever… guess I've learned something...

To never tolerate that rage or hate... deep-seated insecurities...

In the instant, constant, onset , onslaught of borderline amusement...

I wonder who will kill who first ?

Let’s be clear... I won't be losing...

No one's fooling no one ... still at times it's quite obnoxious...

I find myself still nauseous from the weak but lead-like toxic...

Levels of absurdity...

The accusations and expressions....

That made my own relatives just turn from me….

Were the sort of chaos...

That took me to the other side of madness...

Back to the phrase of Golden Days...

InSinSanity... and sadness...

Is no way to live... NO WAY...

She'd scream, “it's just some sick obsession!”

'Cause I'd still cling to our collision...

As sick and twisted as could be...

As sick as sickness ever gets...

But sickness learned to sing...

Sick was rescued… from that sickness...

Sickness bloomed Scarlet Macaw's wings…

Sickness can remit though... if its' InSinSanity...

Tragically, back then... I'd have done near anything...

I solemnly vowed with all my soul ... to follow without questioning….

Through heaven, to hell, then back again...

To a reality so bleak…

The feet that bled with blisters and sores...

Were nothing more than the madness cast to me…

Ultimately abandoned - lost, wounded, hungry, hurt…

Unfortunately, he taught me too well...

The worst way... low self-worth...

And if I didn't love him...

Comprehend or sort of get it...

Then I would come and serve her some desserts...

In fact, I'd give her seconds...

'Cause when I’d look at all those pictures ...

And forgive the evil in him...

Looking into those sweet eyes that still fills my mind with pain…

Too much trauma for one lifetime ...

Too much sin for those called sane...

A prime statistic... one short lifeline..

For the whole world... on display...

These precise and accurate predictions....

Of simple, petty crimes committed....

By a hyperactive kid, just given ...

The Ritalin he's likely sniffing...

Still to this very day...

A delinquent drunk that doesn't listen ...

Past age 36, still living...

Like some awful entitlement collision...

Between this generation and generation's past…

Newfound neighbors... new addresses....

Say "hi" and smile more...

Eat, and drink, and clean, and sweat...

Give the man your very best...

Forget the past, give him more sex...

Hide the pain you can't forget...

I won't waste my time or breath ...

Money, effort, work or sweat...

He'll self-destruct just fine, I bet...

I shrug my shoulders.... cold regret...

Life comes with no warranty ...

So, don't trust words like, “certainty”...

His success now of no concern to me...

It's HIS turn to be burnt and bleed...

It's their turn here now finally...

To hurt and hurt some more...

It's their turn now, right on this page...

I'm settling the score...

Though some say nothing's changed, I'm still the same...

Just as sick or bad…

How the hell I'd get his blood on my two GOOD clean hands?

A sinner just as guilty? Never...

Only to God, is who we answer...

What worse can they to do to me?

For citing sources so improperly...

Claiming it's their property... sorry they inspired me...

Was he an addiction? Or a muse?

Who really cares to tell the truth?

All I knew back then was I still had love for the man

That left me raped and screwed... that left me beyond mad...

Destroyed my brain... I hear the rain... I don't complain...

Happily ever after...

In the movies that would matter...

On TV... a nice, pretty plot device...

But reality only feeds me cold seeds...

Haunted by two cruel eyes of ice...

You say that you don't care... my astute logic's aware...

But my heart wouldn’t let him go... even though he broke my soul...

He took my breath away... then put the air back in my lungs...

It left me so confused, back then… was that some sort of act of love?

Why would he look concerned... if all along he planned to burn?

Why was I surprised, forlorn? By another plot the two had formed?

Too bad that phone call just confirmed - how truly sick he is

Disturbed...

And I know it doesn't matter ... past is past... it shouldn't shatter...

Hell it hath no fury, though... like a girl's hypothalamus action...

If men wonder why we don't forget...

There's your simple, neurological answer...

You can have that one for free, put it all on me...

I'll handle all the bashers...

It's what I'm used to anyway... so go on.. call me trash but...

Back then I felt invincible... for I thought I'd seen it all...

What else could possibly happen? Chance of rain, or snow, in Fall?

I felt bullet proof from all the damage ...

Psychopathy is just one dance, though...

Really all that's needed...

To lead a heathen so-called whore's descent into such greif and…

My heart sits in the hands now...

Of a man who has every advantage...

Nor did it hurt... he was charming and smart...

Golden on the surface... fatally attractive...

I guess I wasn't cold enough... that's what I get for talking tough...

It's better I just write this stuff ...

"Stop fighting!" They say, "You’ve lost enough!"

Bottled deep inside was rage though... seething all the same...

If he could even feel a thing...

I kept my mouth shut for the page... so long I've waited...

For the day The Scarlet Letter could sing...

Never for one fleeting punch... I'll win this war before their lunch...

This is the end… so just wait when...

There's left nothing but words and pens...

Take the stage... forget the singing?

Assume the shining fate of fame gained for relating?

Ink eternal, legal, permanent… till’ the others understand...

That I'm a pretty simple, damaged girl... cover Skynard...

Take a stand...

I thought, “screw it - this brain's blown”

“I'm done...”

“Good-bye cruel world - you owe me one...”

“'Cause when you finally gave me something...”

“Happiness to call my own...”

A precious gift that paid me back for all the pain I've ever known...

Not realizing she did just that – I simply reaped what I had sown...

“You snatched it back – you matricidal dunce!”

With a perfect incision into my heart and guts....

I cursed out life ... like I somehow knew better....

And all I proved was my own ignorance...

It's my only real regret for my displays

Of such little, bitter wisdom...

Of my poignant ability to complain and moan

Dealing with heart-ache and rejection...

Still writing out those thank you cards to people that care less than...

“Then screw you, Fate! Screw off, cruel world!”

“Screw you! To pull this bait and switch!”

When you only learn the hard way - you start to get fed up with it...

You would think by now, I've had enough, but no

I continued like a kid...

Kicking, screaming, crying – I continue with my fit...

Forgive me Lord – my words are sick...

Someday I'll burn in hell for this...

Exceedingly lethal ... persistent and patient...

Pro-bono, but painful ... all insurance a waste here...

Your bill will be covered ... suffer well it's been paid for...

He's earned being strapped down to that lobotomy table...

No pain pills – not even Morphine will help...

Going on living life like this...

If you can find a vein than HIT HIM!

Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip...

Jaded lovers say that Karma's the best...

Living well as a five-star physician...

The crème de la crème ... the pictures don't lie...

Gifted Surgeons of Surveillance...

But I’m not interested in plotting revenge...

I simply quit, came back, and left...

With nothing but these memories and words...

I swore one day they'd change the World...

The true Doctor of Duality is Time ... keeping the balance of nature...

By being the best witness God himself has found...

So says the scribbles on my paper...

Living InSinSanity and madness..

Might sound like total fallacy...

But living like this blind’s you...

To the logic locked in truth and sadness...

Which distorts brutal beings into the demons...

That seem like handsome dreams...

Sad, but true and tragic... living today... InSinSanity...

THE END. FOR NOW...