Tears

She stood staring at the monument,

Her mind taken back

To then.

Was that the same wind blowing through her hair

That blew

On a day so very long ago?

Has it just been traveling the world;

Been out there somewhere waiting to hear her heart beat again?

Now she was

Afraid to turn around.

Not ready to leave,

Fearful the tears would fall

And a passerby would stare.

They would most likely

Assume she must be drunk or out of her mind.

No, she teetered on the edge and almost plunged

But

She was

Simply sad.

Just plain sad. People do not like to see that

Sadness.

Tears.

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Broke

Somewhere

Before I remember,

When i began to walk

I think,

I started carrying your disappointment and Fear

On my back.

And when my staggering posture became noticeable

I

Carefully moved it

Behind my ribcage

Between my heart and my stomach,

Rearranging my insides for you.

It was almost impossible to breathe,

Impossible to eat.

Though I thought that is what good children do.

As I grew I realized

You did it for your mother and father too.

This was all you knew.

I am grateful we broke our hearts open.

Thus,

We broke the silence.

Mommas Violin

Momma would pick up the violin

When her heart was breaking.

And the strings she would play

Until her fingers,

They were aching.

And her tears

Made the melody

Flow from her soul.

Even though I was young,

I felt it in my blood.

The love and the hate.

The longing and yearning

As it echoed from impossible

Depths.

Each note

Bleeding

Out

From the

Fissures

Of her

Heart.

*choleintodiamonds*

* originally posted May 2014*

Maps

And there you are.

The star maps

I follow

Always lead me to your

Heart.

Forget

It can happen

By midday.

You forget you had beautiful dreams

And a fantastic morning.

You might not recall that you have a wonderful

Life for a moment too

When your heart

Hurts.

Fearless

Be mindful

Those generational ghosts you bring forward;

Those in your own heart and mind which no Longer

Exist.

We are teaching children to fear them.

We are born fearless.

We are born fresh and

We are born free of past regrets.

Do not dump your unhealed bits on them, the Children.

Lessons abound from the past. Still, let us refrain from planting our pain in the child’s heart.

Dead

I step through the

Threshold

And feel the ghosts.

They want to crawl under my skin

To make a home in my veins.

They want to cling to the walls of my heart,

Stop me in my tracks.

Screaming,

“Look back!

Look back girl!”

I do not know how to stifle

Them.

I turn round

Struggling to face myself in the mirror,

Expecting to see my child self.

I look up to see Mamas eyes

Instead of me.

And her voice in my mind over and over,

“I love you, but I do not like you.”

i would like to ask her what she truly meant

But she is dead and gone.

I cannot help but wonder if she would still feel the same today.