An Old Story

I am telling myself a story about the past. The story is true. The story is not true.

Daggers raked across my chest and my breathing stopped. It started again and my heart beat uncontrollably fast. I was dizzy. I was feeling so faint and light that I thought I would float away. My vision blurred and returned to normal. As I lost almost complete control of my physical body, my mind was consumed in my thoughts. I was in control of my mouth. I tightened it into a smile and spoke encouraging words. I don’t know what they were, but the smile didn’t reach my eyes. My hands were sweating. I spoke a lie. I was going to check something. I couldn’t think of a better lie.

I looked on the ground and found pieces of myself were scattered about the floor. Something was drip dropping from chest. Pieces of my heart? Or were they coming up through my throat. I had to get out. I had to get out. I am going to check something. I will be back. The latter was true. I didn’t want to come back, but I had to come back. I didn’t want to face this choking fear, but I had to come back. Before I came back, I had to leave. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here.

The dizziness was consuming. The stairs or the elevator? I couldn’t trust my legs. I could barely stand. The shaking seemed uncontrollable, but it may have been only in my mind. I thought my heart was going to explode, but it may have been only in my mind. I leaned against the elevator walls. Basement. I will go to the basement. I will sit with the ghosts who haunt the morgue that was no longer a morgue. I felt like a ghost. I was a ghost of myself, and I carried so many ghosts with me. I was reliving my university years. I relived multiple confrontations with multiple people. It seemed all of them were screaming the same thing:

Not good enough! Not good enough! Change your expectations! Change your behaviour! Look at yourself in the mirror! You’re not enough! You’ll never get this right! Everyone is talking about how you’ll never get this right! Nobody wants to talk with you! You don’t listen! You don’t understand!

I replied:

Shut up! Shut up! I don’t want to carry you around. I thought I was rid of you.

My hands were shaking. I had to have help. I knew that much. But who could I ask? I just needed to tell someone. I typed the story in jerking lines. I saw this. I read this. I am not okay. I am trying to be okay. I am shaking. I feel like vomiting. Everything in my stomach, in my chest, is too tight. I can’t vomit. I can’t talk. I can’t cry. I want to cry. I want to scream! Why me? WHY ME?

The ghosts still follow me. They escape in my envy. With every jealous thought that defies rejoicing, another ghost is born. It hangs on my back. It eats away at my body. It toys with my mind. It hurts and it hurts and it hurts. It hurts me so much that I must give that hurt away. I want to rake my daggers across a different chest. One that deserves it. Who deserves this pain? Why me?

I have tried. I will continue to try. But I want to ask How can I? It feels as though I have been wronged. There is no apology. I don’t want to forgive what can easily happen again. Where is the remorse? I don’t want to hear I’m sorry you’re alone. I want to hear I’m sorry I made you feel alone. I don’t want to hear I’m sorry you are hurt. I want to hear I’m sorry I hurt you.

Do I have a right to want these things? Do I have a right to ask for these things? Can someone make me feel alone if I am whole? If I am whole, can someone make me feel alone? Can someone hurt me, or can we only hurt ourselves? What is human, and what can I control? Am I a reactionary? Is it wrong? Or is it just hard not to be one? Is it an excuse? Is it forgivable?

The karmic perspective has been lost. There are too many questions. My mind is not clear. I know the answer is to meditate. The answer is to ask for help – not from humans but from spirit.

Must I ask for forgiveness? Or must I ask to forgive? I feel as though I cannot handle feeling this way another moment. I want to rejoice for the one who receives what I want, but I cannot bring myself to do it. I am insane. I am fully deluded. I count my flaws and I wish – how I wish! – I could be rid of them. Do I mean my wish? I think I do. I know I must meditate. I know I must not tell myself stories about my pain – past or present.

The stories feel true. The stories are not true.

I am tortured. I am suffering. The suffering is needless. The torture is self-inflicted. It would be so easy to stop the pain. It is so difficult to stop the pain. It is difficult doing what is right, even when what is right is simple, easy. I must cut the chains that threaten to pull me into the abyss. I must, instead, seek the wisdom in the place of emptiness. I must awaken from this nightmare. I must awaken from my dream state.

I will meditate.

I wish to be free.

Advertisements

Relative Synecdoche

I am revealed in pieces,
chip away, mine me, deep sea dive me,
peer through the holes in curtains covering dusty windows
and perhaps you will see pieces of my tapestry
carefully woven throughout my life,
guided not by Three Fates, but my own hand
my own choices, deliberate and purposeful
even when scattered and careless
appearance and reality rarely run parallel paths

See this life, a conscious collection of action, thought, feeling
unconscious collaboration of infinite lifetimes
forgotten memories, shared histories erased by rebirth
compassion, kindness, love, learned patience through
trial and tribulation, rejoice to replace envy
and work to plant good seeds, nurturing
the growth of peace and joy

Oh beloved friend, I have opened my mind
so that I can learn all I’m able, absorb all I may
to in turn understand you with a knowledge
that comes from communion and connection
a closeness I feel in my breast and dissolve upon
a white heart of Philia and Agape, perhaps Pragma
and so many other loves born of curiosity and bred by passion

Yet when you look at me you stand in marvel
for I am still robed though you were undressed.
while I find that most are comforted in the revelation
that someone will not just understand, but uplift
and I delight in my talented comprehension of
the human condition, enjoying the like-minded energy
we may share, I walk invisible past the mirror
I wouldn’t look into, fearful of the narcissistic pull
having learned my lesson over a thousand existences,
drowning while loving only a reflection of myself.

The time for seeing with our eyes is over
(did it ever exist?)
A time for feeling with our hearts is within reach
(it always was)
exploration and curiosity is a must
(as is trust)
patience a virtue, not to be misplaced
(as pieces fast uncovered are just as fast erased)

I put my hand in your hand, fingers interlaced
I try to walk as fast, just to keep the pace
I try to uncover myself, reveal in harmony
a time lapsed story, a linear retrace
but it’s so hard for me to strip down to base
to keep things in order and memory trace
as things in my mind are cyclical, the Relativity staircase,
a spiral, repetitive journey, in love, lessons and grace

I thank you for your patience
I thank you for your time
I thank you for investment
of heart and soul and mind
As I watched the sun rise and watched the sun set,
I selfishly had wondered, what out of this world I get
Instead of pouring in everything I have
and letting my reflection shine back a most selfless mindset

Now that change has happened, and growth will still occur
I share these pieces of myself, and with love and trust refer
you to these stories, a tapestry of me
A puzzle missing pieces, a tale told out of turn,
mixed up metaphors and fragmented synecdoche
to in part reveal a whole, something for which to yearn
I won’t make you deep sea dive or without light explore the caves
I won’t let you drown in depths, nor alone survive the waves.

I am the guide through my own life, for those who sit and wait
for those who give and share with me
who ache to still explore
I am revealed in pieces, so listen carefully
a slivered wound, manifold whole,
messy, clean, and unmasked soul
torn and frayed tapestry, resewn at some seams
gleaming, shiny, sparkling bright
pure and unadulterated light
a woods with growth old and new
forest fires, just a few…

So I will tell my tale to those
who’ve fought and understand
with checked privilege, proof of patience
those who’ve taken stand
You have a story that I’ve heard,
and so I’ll give my word
I’ll sing unlike the caged bird
for I’m already free.
I’ll sing my song for those pure hearts
who lust to undo me.

Queen of Oz: Lacking

There are some things in life I lack
A heart, a brain, and courage – threefold
These things are important, that’s a fact
To love, to think, to be so bold

To think (if I could) that I had none
It burdened me so that I could not sleep
Mistakes had been made, life was not fun
To such an extent I had to weep

I can’t do this! I said to myself
A useless cycle, a waste of life
To put these problems high on the shelf
To sit around in an endless strife

These attributes began to haunt me
Day and night, awake and dreaming
I wanted to find these things and be set free
I wanted to stop the despair, the tears from streaming

So I remained awake a night to plan
A search, a journey, a quest
One I knew meant for no other man
But for me alone, it was my test.

To stop living in a waking death
To put my foot down and make a name
To be more than some tragic hero like Macbeth
I knew my fate was not going to be the same

A Queen of Oz I would become
But first to set forth on this voyage to collect
Courage, a brain, and a heart, so I did not succumb
To my errors, but rather, they correct.

A mission impossible for me it seemed
I had no armour, no shield for protection
I had to set out as my insides screamed
I couldn’t stand the chance to pause for reflection

Now while the idea was fresh in my mind
Good or not I hadn’t any thought
But without a doubt, change must be brought
A heart to find, and courage bind, and psyche to see and not be blind.

It’s time I believe, I really ought
To start the journey, let the fight be fought
For endurance, honour, love and thought
It’s time to give it all I’ve got.