Whirling wind, moaning, mimicking my mighty memory of abject abandonment, while sheepishily shaming my reality. We come from different worlds, though they are different they are the same. Savage sweat-soaked separation seeking to sever sexual abuse-forgotten, remembered, forgotten, remembered again, never again to be forgotten.
Crashing waves, rushing roughly toward the shore and pounding incessantly the righteous rocks eroding away any trace of innocence. Aquired-aging actively exaggerated in shape, form and function, as the salt eats away at the wounds of time.
Wounded caverns cautiously calloused echoing enduringly the haunted-aching screams of the rock's youth, yesterday. Lamented lost youth yawns yearly and each day therein contained for all that the little ones lost that was held and valued so dearly.
Thrashing and crashing around at sea, sorrow-filled, wild waves roaring, ripping, soaring and dipping. White-mad caps bespeak of all nature's abhorrent mishaps. The children of yesteday, the survivors of today, desperately trying to read their way back through agonizing-ascribing acrimonious-asension at the intersection of each crossroad on the mystical recovered-memory-map.
Empty souls surfing the waves of the sea, crying out to you, and to me, my world is your world, and your world is mine, and in the eye of the storm some how we will be fine. Each flashback is a serendipitous splash that brings with it the ripple effect of tormented transcendence.
Bridges built to span the sea, bridges from the past, pathways we must travel to be free, free, free at last! Water is never tired of flowing, and as it goes, so too must each one of us keep going until a harmoniously-healing wind wraps us up and holds us tightly and securely within its throes; gliding us across the ocean in the newness of wonderous emotion.
We come from different worlds, though they are different they are the same. Each of us has a reality, a function, a purpose and a name. My world, their world, like planets orbiting one another in outer space, aware of one another yet seeking to each save face. I try to live each day as it comes, while inside of me; they, live each day perpetually as it already was.
Savage, sweat-soaked separation still seeking to sever sexual abuse--forgotten, remembered, forgotten--remembered again, never again-- to be forgotten.
© 1996 A.J. Mahari
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