Black Sorrow

Her entire life, until now, had been padded and sheltered a lot more than even she was aware of.

She had it all going for her, yet only the people far, far away could see that.  She never knew what she was risking, she never noticed who she was losing. No one warned her, she now tells, no one tried to wake her out of the trance. Not even her closest friend, he who knew all her secrets, he who had the ability to see through her and bore the gift to change about her what no one else could, never, not even, once mentioned to her that the light she was walking towards, that light at the end of the tunnel in which she was caught, was only an approaching train.

And now here she lies all bruised and broken, crashed and left for the worms that feed on the helpless.

Why can’t some one get her out of here, why can’t any one save her from this earthen confinement? And what is this little thing in which she lies, she wonders in panic. It looks nothing like her bed, no. The big beautiful wooden bed where she spent so many teary eyed nights, hugging onto her soft pillow, pulling onto her covers. The bed in which she would run to seek solace and safety from the people and the world she believed despised her.

“Why would one push away the people that care so much about her? How, oh how, can we not see the love we receive, the affection we are bestowed upon by the people in and out of our lives,” her speechless voice wonders. 

 Instead we cry and complain. We blame them for what they do not give. We demand of them what they cannot offer. We want more, we want nothing at all. We seek for the impossible, we reach out to those things that can only hurt us- because that’s what we lack-being hurt, true pain. In the end we are, like in a JK Rowling story, chasing after wizards and witches that live only in our self tortured minds. And finally we learn the truth; that we are all by ourselves. Not even stray cats would want to  live with us, because we do not live are any more. We  have no home.

Only the red earth can shelter us. Only a wooden box can hold our fragile bodies together, and that’s only for a moment.   

Advertisements

5 Comments Add yours

  1. Cheri says:

    My first time here ans I score Firsties… I can tell this is gonna be a very cordial relationship.

    Hi, I’m Cheri…. nice to meet u. Now lemme take u around Blogistan…it’s the place to be. If u want crazy fun, we have it. If u want intel fun, we have it. If u want religious content, we do have it, if u want beef…there is a bull roasting exercise around every 3 weeks.

    As for now, we’re just on our toes waiting for this CHOGM bus to roll past.

    Come with me to Bella Cafe Ferrara, let’s have a drink. On the house..

  2. Cheri says:

    Shit…u have comment moderation enabled?! Are those firsties mine?

  3. mphoebe says:

    Hey, me thinks Cheri’s cool.
    and that beef thing, I will be coming
    over every (once in)3 weeks.
    thanks for the tour… although what the heck
    is firsties. (when i feel really silly about this
    qtn i will edit it off but if it stays, then, i really want
    to know).

  4. lulu says:

    hey this is some deep stuff. Am hoping it was just a passing thought and not a lasting belief. What am i saying??? Your poisning me as well. Nice blog otherwise

  5. Iwaya says:

    grim but I can’t turn my eyes away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s