Thursday, May 5, 2011

Twisted Tangles

Twisted barbs of past memories
slash through me.
I am bruised and bleeding,
bound and tangled
by the weight
of my misguided feelings of responsibility.
Guilt ridden sobs choke me -
I'm lost in the deep dark waters of self-loathing.
The waters run deep and run so cold.
Swirling the pieces of my broken thoughts
until they impaling my mind
with thier jagged glass edges
slashing through the trembling beams
of my self-esteem.
Until it all falls down.

I harbor within my memory
a refugee.
Displaced and in pain,
Her home burned,
her future uncertain,
her loved ones destroyed.
She's foreign to me now,
from places and times
that're now hard to recognize.
I provide her a solitary haven,
a refuge for her to heal her pain.
But she holds it too close for her to let go.
She guards it with tightened fists
and angry determination.
She clings to it with a desperate need.
Because it fills her up.
It makes her whole.
I let her give it up -
bit by painful bit.
One sob at a time.
There is no rush -
She can hold onto her grief
her sorrow,
for as long as she wants.
No one's going to take it away.
That's not what makes a home.
It's not a place of sorrow.
It has the potential to be a place of safety.

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