At crooked fork in road.
She asks, “why?”
I, heavy tongued could only ponder.
Did not want to answer,
Could only say
I don’t have the love to carry my lifetime’s weight.
Nightly, I die to shed the pain of rejection
Isolation steals happiness that lies in the corner of my mind
I pray for nightfall because sleep always comes on time.
The shadows are the only lovers I know.
I seek refuge in the arms of silhouettes.
And find comfort in the haunting imprints that remain long after you’re gone.
The sun’s rays chill and freeze an already embittered heart.
I have nothing to give to myself
What I give to others is never enough.
I am a vessel thru which much flows, but I remain empty.
an excerpt from WHiTe BaLLooNS
kimberley d taylor/13
on the eleventh day of september in the year of our lord 2004, i lost the last matron of my village, margaret r belisle (grand). they say it takes a village to raise a child, and i believe it to be true.
It's raining, even though the sun is shining. My soul continues to weep for past indiscretion, current transgressions, and ongoing suppression of scattered emotions which plague my journeyed path. My path littered with fear which poses as debris, is foreignly familiar.. Debilitating. It is secretly mapped upon my dna and perfectly tattooed upon the pulses of blood which race, almost snail-like thru my core. In my humanness and frailties I search for comfort on this path, in this place. Here, only I can paint the depth of it's darkness to block out your sun. That light, hauntingly weakens my spirit in this moment. I sketch another path in my mind's eye. A womb, from which no life can sustain or remain. I have traveled this path, before, as I am conveniently lost on the winding trails of my cranium. Frontal lobe seized, unable to make decisions, void of logic. I do not want to think. I do not want to want. I want to be needless and wantless. I want to shrink in the memories of past life and remember what was once beautiful. In my pain and anguish over your absence, your presence forever remains. In my grief I shall search and find solace on this path as I believe it will one day lead me to you....
mary lou-greatgrand magaret-grand mary elizabeth-mom clara-great aunt suzy-aunt
happy mother's day.... i love you and i miss you..... in this lifetime i will continue to look toward you and in my next lifetime, i will look for you.
erica, jo, michelle, sarah, love, june and mo happy mother's day.
13andtheysaythatshytain'tlucky......
E. Zora Knight
2005-05-09
the first monday after the storms..... or why mother's day should be erased from my mind
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3 comments:
13, know that they are with you, they know your pain, and they cry tears with you. My mother lost her mother on Mother's Day. I have for many years watched the conflict of pain and hope she feels in the absence of her own mother and the presence of my sister and I to remind her she too is a mother. I just want to hold her, but it is not something I can understand yet. Sometimes, when my mom talks about her faith, she starts saying things like she is "ready to go home." And I am not ready. I want to scream at her that I am not ready. We women just can never be ready. So, my heart is with you to be as support. Mom or not, you are an amazing woman--lots of us need our dose of 13 on the regular.
I love your honesty. I wish I could be as honest. I think that I would be stronger and healthier if I was. There are reasons why and I've convinced myself over the years that those are valid reasons, but the more I think about it these days, the more I'm wrong.
You been blessed with many gifts, and creativity is one. You may struggle for/with it at times, but the little I know of you, I know that if you let yourself be yourself. The work that comes out of you is inspiring.
t.
beautiful... thank ou for the well wishes. see ya soon///
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