Losing My Ability to Speak

Watching it go....in those blog posts, I'm watching my ability to communicate shiver and shake and strain under the pressure. And then it will break, that lifeline, that bridge from my inner world to the world of another. It will shatter and I will be left with a broken mirror, trying to catch my reflection in the pieces, to shine enough light on my inner workings to put them back together. The mirror, the echo, the moon shining light from the sun so we know she's still there...I would become lost behind a veil of mist and shadows, with poetry the only light sharp enough to break through the haze. Reflecting the sun. The prism's beam dividing into words tumbling straight from the archetypal heart of me...it was this, or nothing. It was this, or scripts long ago memorized and operating on autopilot. There would be nothing else for a long time...for a long time, nothing

leapt from inner tiger's forest
yes, burning
but unable to scale the 
slopes of the tragedy
the echoing misery
the mystery in chains
inside me bright and 
soft and full of 
life and we are 
singing out to 
you but you are

on the other side

on the other side...might as well have been on the moon, the sun's light silent and formidable barriers of stone resurrected and reflecting the guessing games left on the threshold of my mind. I thought in time, the barriers would lesson. I thought with patience, I could wait out this strange happenstance, and we could find our way back together. I could explain everything with such perfect eloquence that all of the bitter mystery would make perfect sense. You would see, you would see through my eyes, you would see me, because that is what happens when the bridge comes back and you can cross it, you can see each other and everything is understood and nothing matters so much as your love which was strong all this time, nothing was lost because this love is eternal, it is unending, it is the fire at the end of time that just keeps burning, and everybody knows this and so no one gives up the fight to remember and we all come back together and

read the stories of the falling times and

cry and scream and rip up the pages of the soft sad in between

and then we laugh because we made it and of course we would never have let it fade this bond that is carrying our futures in its shivering, wind-borne light 

Wind-borne, crafting this resonance for the Listening, we are weaving the spells of awakening, the moon-tide shaking the dust off our symphony blades

Hey, hey

I knew you then

You knew me too

Reach out and you 

Will find the strange

Epiphanies of

Change,

Causality of the

Pre-ordained

That floats the breeze

Come follow me

The healing of the 

World begins like this,

Come

Down into the depths of our reunion

Shattered Glass

Somewhere in the haze of pain that was 2006

I sat down here because I couldn't

                                stand
                this
                                    I can't stand this anymore

I sat down here, at the bottom of the stairs that would become my 

                    home not home my not home

I didn't know yet how often I would sit here

at the bottom of the stairs of this 

broken down split level

because here I am invisible they can't see me they don't know but I can 

    hear

everything 

        going on upstairs and right now they're

shouting

                they're shouting at each other and I would 

        count the times I will sit here and listen to the 

shouting but it would be 

                            hard because of the                 dissociating 

to remember accurately 

    and the haze of pain

                in my body only

    remembers strange

details like 

the red polish on my nails and I 

            remember how I 

ran the back of my hand against wall maybe just to 

                feel           something           other than pain

        and it left a red streak on the 

            white paint                         

and in the years

                             years

the years that would follow I would 

    sit there and 

                                    listen

        and stare at that red streak

                      and remember how I first sat there in 

blank disbelief, my hand a ghost attached to a 

body that wasn't real 

        and yet somehow it made a mark upon the 

             blank               white                     wall

in that              dim                   musty                 hell

    and I thought 

                        is this my life now? 

is this my 

                                life

                                                        now

....so you see, this is what I couldn't write to you, in the blog that was supposed to be 

our shared memories, an account of our lives, of our day to day living 

but I wasn't alive, I was a 

red streak on the 

white paint and I was 

too busy dying to 

remember how to 

breath life into the 

words I wanted to say,

so they stayed inside, trapped

in my head, all the times I wanted to 

cry and cry and cry and let it all 

out and I wanted to tell you

but I didn't know how to make

words anymore when my

life was 

                 shattered 

                                     glass upon the floor

Welcome Back

Interrupted timelines court the waiting spaces of my mind. It's time to start anew. It's time to remember you. It's time to find out who I would have been. It's time to reach back for the beloved child, the fighting child, the child dying from the inside. It's time to revisit, renew, say the things I never said to you. It's time to explain and account and recount and revise and see the past through new eyes.

Can I do all that this time? It's taken me so long to find my way back to the threshold of my life. I want you to know that I didn't want to die, but I couldn't stop it. I want you to know that I tried. I want you to know I was taken against my will, pulled into another dimension out of phase with yours. My voice dried up on my tongue. I could see you, but I couldn't touch. Out of phase I languished in my solitude, wishing for nothing so much as your company. But that was denied me, denied me, denied me. I was locked in a world of threats and illusions and you couldn't find me.

Did you try? I want to believe. I want to think you would have clawed your way through the cages if you could have seen them. The insidiousness of the prison was its invisibility. But didn't you wonder? Where did the friend who would have put their life on the line for you vanish to? Did you believe my affection was so fickle? Did you believe I would ever have left you if I hadn't died, been betrayed by my life, been strangled and buried alive?

But I can't blame you. I've come to realize the extent of the spell was wide. The Wizard with Evil Intent was clever, and he knew you would come to my rescue if ever you realized the catastrophe he was making of my life.

Of our lives. Because it's becoming so clear to me, as I search through the echoes we left behind, just how much he stole from us all. Just how far the ripples of his seduction-abduction-illusion extended. Just how much pain he inflicted. And how he hid his authorship in the confusion, in the chaos, in the violent thrashing of a childhood denied, in the drowning of a life.

Reading those posts I wrote as the unraveling quickened is like watching myself drowning in real time. And I see myself reaching for you, grasping for the light, but we were all just children trying to survive. Yet I see you reaching back, wishing you could offer me respite. God, how much we tried. I see our yearning to unite. But there's only so much a child can do against such a relentless tide.

What we are is a story of love shattered open
Fractured like the fault lines of the earth
But in those depths lies power to move the world
If only we let it

So why don't we let it

Let's find it, rewind the tape to the
Days of unraveling, changes that
Came unannounced and undid us
But the forces that tore us
Apart can't withstand the
Renewal of the story

So let's keep it going