Pandemia


It’s like playing telephone. Some people honestly trying to share experience, knowledge, to pass it on correctly. Others trying to mess around. The voyeurism of tragedies.

I am trying to make sense of it all. I heard the original message but now as it twist away… I see it’s distortion as others nod sagely because it fits into their narrative.

Does the truth matter when a lie feels better?


Once I was always seeking

A touch a word

Eyes to see me

But what I saw in the familiar faces

Were strangers needing to just get pass

Not connecting as I spoke

I became the background of my own story

A story told in detail but never heard

And stepping away

I am again the main character choosing my path

Breaking away


There is pain that won’t go away. Words spoken but never heard. Acts done that should not be forgiven. I face them all. Bravery is not something that can easily be seen. Bravery is not something that brings success. Bravery is this… Dealing with the losses and my part in them. I know my own intentions were naive and immature. Bravery is to face my weaknesses, my failings and claim what is mine while shoving back what is theirs. I not here to blame and demand apologies, I am here to take my own shelter, to feel secure with myself and to be done with this burden I never should have carried. I am brave enough not to seek to destroy someone’s memories, or their legacy but in a pragmatic way leave what isn’t mine. This is yours my dear, I won’t be burdened anymore. This is yours.

Break


Leaning against the glass
I can see the sunrise blazing bright
wanting to feel the sun in my face
but all I feel is the cold
while stuck in this shadowed room

I know if I step out
the door will lock behind me
and you will sit in the corner
complaining of being trapped
holding all the keys

it’s not you who’s been stuck
forced to listen about not being enough
so here is to all that you won’t understand

fuck this door
I’m breaking the glass

willing to do it all
to be loved
to be free
to be

Hidden


You want to see something tragic? Seeing a person bursting with talent but is frozen by anxiety, by an inability to focus. A beautiful figure with a glowing smile who never leaves thier room.

Then time has it’s way, and we see it fade. Death takes and not even a memory is left of their bright flame.

Who are you so gifted and bright? What is your name? If I reach out and take you by the hand, would it help bring you out? Yes the sunlight waits, I wait. You have nothing to fear from me but… This world remains cruel and unforgiving. Your reasons are solid to fear.

I know in these locked rooms where these souls feel safe the answer to our prayers wait. Yet in our ignorance many don’t seek them out. The ones who know them can’t handle the drama. They have given up, too busy with thier own lives. Unable or unwilling to help them out.

Oh the many ways we fail. The lack of empathy and care, the lack of kindness in our society.

In a room the mind that could cure cancer, save the world from war, figure out a solution to our limited resources… They hide for being different. We have sent them away.

Dim


via Dim

My eyes closed, I hear the buzzing and beeping of the hospital with the occasional dinging of an elevator down the hall. I sit in a faux leather chair that squeaks to even the slightest movement. The gentle mummering of familiar voices fill the room. Yet with all their familiarity, I can hear the strain, the struggle behind their words. I can hear in their voices sadness, pain and false hope that ripped me to my core.

I open my eyes to gaze upon her small form curled in a familiar shape. My father next to her, his powerful body shrunk into itself, his face aged and sagging. My older brother leaning over her tiny form whispering in her ear.

I had earlier done the same and had whispered my love to her. Something I had told her regularly since my early teens when I had figured if I needed love I must give it first. A twisted experiment since it both failed and succeeded. I never got her to express it in such an open manner but… Over time I started to recognize her own need for kindness. I remember how she would shrug, not really believing me. Yet I kept on finding strength in giving her what we both needed. Our relationship was always complicated, full of unnecessary conflict. A constant power struggle of sorts. She would not let me finish telling her a story, instead stuck on a mispronounced word. One where she needed me to remain a small child and I… I in my thirties no longer able to play that part.

As I sat, I had no idea where to place my hands. Folding, unfolding them, pressing down my shirt. My feelings of guilt twisting inside of me for all I did not do. Feelings of unresolved issues and my deep love for her. A love I never could put in a proper place.

I watched as the sun rose outside her hospital window. Our small facility up high looking over our small valley bright and promising. Our little town dressed up in sunshine gold. I watched it in awe and knowing… For all the light my mother’s flame was casting shadow. Dimming forever her voice, her scent and touch. All that is between us not longer in motion and… I still don’t know what to do except remember love and hope it’s enough.

Premonition


via Premonition

Echos of each step
Silence
A shadow playing on the wall
I hear something familiar
a voice from the womb
a touch from my own hand

He stands not far from me
Right on the edge of the platform
Tugging at a leather strap hanging from his bag
Just a stranger with a quirky smile
Yet so familiar

Only two of us waiting
his breathing matching my own

As the subway grows loud
Rumbling and squealing
As the metro thrushes a knife into the quiet space
Cold and unyielding our silence forever lost.
I follow him into the car, our hands touch as we both grasp the rail near the door.

“Do I know you?” You ask me.
“You look familiar to me too.” I respond.

The doors slam shut but in the distance I hear the sound of a key unlocking a bolt.
I feel my head rushing a thousand doors flying open as I gaze into his eyes.

All so very familiar.

To become the same quirky smile in my son’s face.

Profuse


via Profuse

She felt like she was in a dreamscape, staring at her hand unable to decide if they were really holding the metal guard rail or if was a dream. Before her stretched a city in the glow of a sunset. Shiny mirrored skyscrapers reflecting gold pressed up against a deep blue sky slowly shadowing into purple.

He stood not far from her. In his hands holding a small velvet box with a diamond ring. His dark eyes searching her face.

“Is that a yes?”

Her mind reeling… Is he talking to me? What are his reasons?

Everything inside her going off kilter, extremely wrong, something red and sticky on the floor flashed through her mind.

Mary found herself muttering… “I just can’t even process this.”

She watched his eyes sharpen, his jaw muscle twitch. As a cold hand gripped her heart, her instincts screaming run.

“I profusely regret your decision Mary.” His voice dark and gentle, like a vet before he puts a dog down.

She needed to get safe, distract, delay, her mind grasping at straws…

“I am not saying no! I just need more time to get my head around this! I don’t like changes.”

She watched something uncoil behind his eyes, his face relaxing.

“Oh I understand that. I don’t like things out of my control either. Tell me when and where you want to say yes.”

Mary felt her face numb, pulling all her acting skills out she shyly smiled and she knew what she needed to do.

How about in two weeks while my Dad is visiting.”

“Yes, yes, that will work.” His hand efficiently tucking the ring into his side pocket.

“That will do.”

In her mind she was already packing, buying a gun and running. The image that had flashed earlier still burning bright in her conscious.

The sticky red stuff on the floor was her own blood. He was going to kill her one day. The man her Dad wanted her to be with, One of his JR. Officers from the war… The only question left was when.