Hard words like bullets hit me
searing comments tear my skin
mute me , take away my power
your anger flails me.
With one word your scorn burns me
knocks me to the ground
wounds me deeply
searing my soul
killing me
slowly
and it never heals
I am wound upon wound
scar upon scar, building up
layer upon hurting layer
somewhere inside deep inside
in a tiny dark little corner
my soul lies curled , furled
amoeba like
you say you know me , do you know me ?
how?
I don’t know me, I know a thousand me’s
I act
every day I act out a thousand personas
trying to find the one that fits the moment
trying to find the one that pleases the world,
you, myself, friends
sometimes I reflect back what is shown to me, thrown at me
good or bad
aggressive or loud
weak, soft ,emotional
maybe it works better being …
if I reflect you then
maybe you will like it better
if I am more you than me
but these people aren’t me
they are all just shards of the mirror of me
that’s fracturing with the pain of my life
my hurt , my sorrows, my tears
my wastes, my losses, my losing
my cheating myself
she’s crying out that child, that soul
that me…
she’s not gone forever
I see glimpses of her all the time
when I push aside the debris
most times though I leave her be
maybe to protect her
maybe because she is so long gone
such a distant memory
that I am losing the reality of her
maybe
maybe cos I still don’t know who
I want to be when I grow up
maybe cos it’s easier to blitz out,
avoid, compartmentalize, be the me
I am in the given moment, just exist
respond / react, just do what is expected
damp down the little sparks, one moment, over-react the next
anesthetize, avoid , procrastinate,
be mundane
just exist
just be an amoeba
so who is the amoeba now, her or me
but she won’t leave me alone this soul
of mine
she has a siren’s call, this Pandora soul of
mine.
She cries to me for release
do I let her out ?
do I dare
who will love her, hate her the most
you or me?
will we
can we
accept her
allow her?
do you care?
Copyright © Gillian Stokes 31 May 2009