A lifetime ago. A few lifetimes ago, I seem to be between my third and fourth lifetime. Perhaps my life is better expressed as chapters of time; or in context containing the places & people involved in areas- where I evolved on my journey to who I have become. When a part of me died in the process of the new me taking a breath.
Chapter one
I try not to go back there. That place we don’t speak about. The broken pieces of memories that flash into my mind like a bad dream. Some don’t make sense from the child mind that tried to process the events.
But I suppose there is no harm in grasping at the ‘good’ I can recall in hopes of the words being a comfort to any who may have also been trapped. Early reflections for me are more like broken fragments, so I tend to express the thoughts as concepts in the form of collective phrases. I apologize for the difficulty it may be to understand.
Sometimes it’s just a quick glimpse, like an old photo. Sometimes it’s a smell or sound. When it first happened, when I used to go back, I would get trapped. It would bring pain from an invisible injury. I couldn’t shake it. It would consume my thoughts both asleep and awake. It was unbearable.
It was a wound that didn’t heal. I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there. I couldn’t make it go away. But I was exhausted trying to keep the blood off my clothes; so I chose to wear it as a scar.
0 Comments