**Caveat--- The following photo was this week's prompt for Bluebell Books' Short Story Slam... the piece that resulted was not what I originally intended. It's obvious the photo is meant to evoke feelings akin to warmth and happiness, and as much as I wanted to write a warm, happy piece, I could not. There is nothing typical about the ramblings, other than they belong to my typically rambling sub-conscious. I couldn't even make it a decent poem *sigh*
And, as I write this caveat, I'm seriously contemplating whether I should even post this....
Where there should be light, darkness settles.
Where there should be love, a pitted emptiness grows.
What I would give to hold you, what I would give to have
known you.
Wrapped in blinding thickness, like cotton-wool stuffed
between the ears,
the mind pads into oblivion,
bones rattling where there should be no sound.
Choking on the words offers no comfort,
if it were so simple, an end would be swiftly sought.
But, it's never so simple.
How long has the ache of your loss remained?
How many years counted?
Months remembered?
Weeks recalled?
Days...forgotten?
There is a hollow in the pit of my soul. A hollow scratched
out several years past when the fragile hold I had on the world was breaking.
It was as if nature had divined that the scooping out of my soul was necessary
so I would never forget.
Soul or no soul, I
would never forget.
It isn’t easy to toss aside a piece of yourself and not feel
something. It’s inconceivable that the world wouldn’t tilt dangerously to one
side when you suddenly realized what you’d lost—even if the losing was not your
own fault, even though you’ll never believe that it wasn’t your fault. Of course,
it was your fault…no one else to blame.
What’s the saying about time healing wounds? I’ve known,
since childhood, the idea of time healing was just another lie, force-fed to
the suffering to “ease” their pain. Time doesn't heal anything. It might allow
your body to grow accustomed to the pain, thereby lessening the effects of it,
but it doesn’t heal it… the pain never really goes away. You can ignore it,
dull it, numb it…but, it’s still there, waiting for the first sign that your
guard is dropping. A tiny crack is all that’s necessary. A pin-prick hole in
your shields and the pain will come bursting through like a heat-seeking
missile, bent on destroying every ounce of warmth you’ve foolishly let in with
the idea of moving on with your life.
The thing about hollows and pain, they’re malignant. They
grow and fester, swallowing their way through your system until your entire
person is consumed. The hollow in your soul, suddenly becomes the hollow in
your heart, before becoming the hollow in your head—the hollow that defines
your life.
Come take the breath of me. You’ve already taken the soul of
me…
I would agree that the response intended was one of warmth and joy, however... if you truly look into the expression on the man's face, I can totally understand where you have gone with this piece. Actually a very powerful write, much depth and pondering on very difficult issues.
ReplyDeleteI'd say you failed the warm fluffiness test but I like the piece. Real life can be a lot more profound and moving than the soft focus image they like to project.
ReplyDelete"The hollow in your soul, suddenly becomes the hollow in your heart, before becoming the hollow in your head—the hollow that defines your life." Powerfully written. Time doesn't heal wounds, but I've found that positive experiences help to balance them out.
ReplyDeletesad, deep and beautifully put.
ReplyDeleteE- So much pain, so much sorrow, very well done! Though some wounds never fully go away, I think they fade over time and agree with what Milo said about balancing them out. Blessings, Terri
ReplyDeleteI think some of the best writing comes from the depths of our pain. You reached deep for this one. Painfully sad, but very well done.
ReplyDeleteextremely deep words, strong and penetrating like a fist
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful and so sad. When I went back and looked at the photo I could see and feel the emotion coming out of it. You are very talented!
ReplyDeleteOuch. Oh, this one hit me hard. "...it's still there, waiting for your guard to drop. A tiny crack..." Ouch. I'm going through something (self-imposed, but still) like that now, pain from the past that, after 16 years, simply decided it would stay buried no longer. GREAT take on the prompt--I love alternative takes, as you saw from my own--and a powerful expression of sentiments not so easily acknowledged. Always a pleasure to read your work!
ReplyDeleteI know a couple who lost a baby this summer. You know there is nothing you can say to comfort them, so "I'm sorry." was all that I said, then we drifted onto another subject.
ReplyDeleteReflections--- Thanks...sometimes it's the difficult issues that get in the way. And, when that happens, they won't be silenced!
ReplyDeleteDavid--- ah, yes... 'warm fluffiness' isn't exactly my forte. I'm more moved by raw realities. Sometimes, I'm moved too much...
Milo--- Thanks! And, you're right. Balancing the bad with the good definitely helps. The problem is remembering to do so :-)
Morning--- Thanks for stopping by and giving it a read!
Terri--- I agree that wounds fade, though it'd be nice if they'd disappear :-)
Charles--- I couldn't seem to reach anywhere but deep for this one... even when I tried otherwise. Glad you liked it.
ReplyDeleteQuotes--- Thanks for reading. Glad you liked it.
Niki--- Aw, thanks for your kind words. The face of the dad in the pic was a little 'unreadable' for me... really could have been thinking anything :-)
Guilie--- Those past pains are rather bothersome, aren't they. Hopefully, yours isn't too much a monster. And, thanks for the kind words. Reading your blog has been such a pleasure as well :-)
Janel--- Yeah, there really isn't anything that anybody can say when something like that happens. It's been 2 summers for me and this piece is the first time I've written of it. And, this is the closest approximation to what I felt after it happened. But, even these words aren't enough....
I am in such tears right now that I can scarcely write trough them. There are no right words nor a right time in which to say them. The ache for me has remained for 2 years, 10 months, 1 week and 4 days now. I'm told by others that it will remain my whole life, that the pain will never leave. Not very encouraging, is it? The closest we can do to heal is to put our grief in a healthier place and just keep breathing, I suppose. But, yes, those tiny cracks will open wide sometimes and the pain and hurt and anger will flow through, sometimes violently so.
ReplyDeleteStill, thank you for putting these words out in public. As demented as it seems, it does help to know that others deal with the same pain. You put it into words so effectively, Elizabeth.
very perfect descritpion of pain and hollowness.
ReplyDeleteelegant poem.