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pounding pavement
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pounding pavement |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738
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Have you ever prayed yourself into a lather? Have you ever counted footsteps of pace, and then gave up, in the face of futility? Have you felt that inner rage--have you ever banged your own head against the wall--in hopes that thought will stop? If you are a human? I know you have. Imagine this--"no, come with me." Take my hand. I will be a time machine...If I can, I'll take you there--I will show you sights I've seen. There is a tribe of Comanche--and I carry on their blood. They believe, that a recurring nightmare, "must be walked..." They believe that the dreams won't stop, until a physical action of absolve is in play. Simple psychology? Perhaps....but there is nothing simple about the haunt of memory. And then again, I grin, typing, knowing---there is nothing simple. * * * I was with child. PREGNANT. Very much to my own astonishment. They? said that I could not conceive--they told me, the nursery of me was gone...but here I was, eating oranges...by the bag. I did not believe it. I did not want to believe. I would pass my hand across my tummy in wonder--and yet? I knew. This child was damaged...this little saint was conceived in a toxic pool of cocaine and Jack Daniels. I wanted the stoicism of the righteous--I wanted to keep that baby. For the first time in my own life, I felt a longing for survival. I felt a longing for forever from within. So, I prayed. "Tell me what to do..." Hours of chain-smoked rocking on the edge of bed, sweat of early morning sleepless hell--and finally, I heard within, an answer. "You already know what you will do." I knew this was the truth, and so I changed my prayers. "Please don't make me go, alone." and I heard a resonance within-- "I AM WITH YOU--ALWAYS." * * * I dressed myself as if for work, even more meticulous than I would dress for a job. I dressed myself for success and carried a brief case, just for the effect. I had watched the news before--the clinic was under a siege of protest. I had a plan to slip by them--so I dressed for good effect. I caught the bus, like I always did. (Funny, for once I was on time.) I took the stop before the clinic--I wanted a bit more time. I walked the block in full view of them...they were drinking coffee over thier placards. But I walked--fully knowing, that I could not stop. As I approached them, I glanced at my wrist, muttering, "I will be late." "Excuse me..." and they parted sea...and I walked the pave. A spiteful part of me glanced back, to see their astonishment, as I ducked into the doors of the clinic. It's very strange to find sanctuary in Hell. * * * I got in trouble right away. They offered "counseling." They showed to us a plastic womb, with a pop-out fetus--saying, "This is what you look like NOW." and? "then, after the procedure", and a flip of wrist, popping the plastic baby--"This is how you will look after." I asked too many questions. They made me stay after class. They punished me for questioning---for this now meant, I was behind the line of "schedule"--I had to sign a second "release" form. We were the last abortion scheduled for the day. They made sure I saw it all. * * * With nothing but a valium--I volunteered my open legs, to have life sucked from me. THAT IS EXACTLY HOW IT IS. And it is the hum of that vacuum, that persists in my nightmares. I had an urge to kick this obscene priest---cleansing me. It is my lack of action, that makes the nightmares reverberate. I dream of babies, crying. I dream they are inconsolable. I think they might be me. * * * Afterwards--I was given a chair--stretched with absorbent paper. Then they offered the grace of a bathroom, and I walked in, afraid to look in the mirror. But I had to wash my hands. So I went gladly, and met the eyes of me, in the mirror. I expected a monster. I saw myself--outside myself--I saw myself through other eyes. I looked flushed in cheek and ruby red lips--I looked like I could dare, again. And then, for the first time in my life, I avoided my own gaze. * * * If nightmares are the sound of bleed--then? A haunting is a pounding walk--a bass drum of the past. [This message has been edited by serenity (06-17-2002 06:29 AM).] |
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| © Copyright 2002 serenity blaze - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Read. I'll e-mail. |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
I wish I had known you then..I would have gone with you. Made you understand that the decision you had to make at that time was the right one for you. This must have been very painful to write, my friend. I hope it has a carthetic affect for your pain. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
I read this very late lastnight and lacked the words ... I'm not sure they are anymore intact today....I know "we" as writers are supposed to try and look at the writing and its merits...but sometimes the emotions and expressions of the inspire take over the structure and literary content.... Sometimes there are no choices in making a choice...sometimes things were taken away from us that also take the "right and wrong choice"...sometimes only reality is left... I would wish for this woman to have seen her "innocence taken too soon" in the mirror and realized how brave and unselfish she was being in the fallout of that reality. She didnt get to that point on her own...she shouldnt carry all the blame and burden. heart-hugs KA you know me loves ya me twin mothyme "It's not about having what you want ... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hey you three...haven't been home much except to crawl in the door in the wee hours lately, so forgive my apparent absences... and I'm glad I didn't offend anyone with this treatment of a mature subject. Sometimes I feel like I am "writing a quilt." Thanks for reading--and my only goal is to hopefully allow readers inside my head a bit--promote a little understanding through each other, and maybe understand myself in the process. As always your kindness and compassion move me greatly...  |
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