Hiding

Currents of twanging throbbing muscle aches
Infiltrate the veins
Bathing, spinning, whirling to the brain
All the youngster can feel is the pain
Fists and feet towering over head
Bearing down hard upon her tender flesh
“Mother stop”  she said
As the long arm of time swung seemingly endless
Driven by a woman's madness
Whose source of powerful origins was lost long-ago

Curled in a defensive ball on the floor, open-mouthed
Her body now a house for the dead, a tomb of flesh
Where outside the hearts flap and skylight eyes
Beasts rised and walked
Feeding off her flesh with gratification
Bearing the name of uncertainty
Her soul served upon a wooden platter
Sacrificed for someone else’s purification
As if the survival of this youngster didn’t matter
Simply the birthing prize of someone elses self liberation

Her mind and thoughts escaped her spirits death
To where a mystical light laid
Its grace like a cloak upon a desolate land
Within this dullness a new consciousness was born
As the one split, died and became twice anew
A sacred song sang and mourned
Harmony filled the space between the passim
To the tune of a funeral hymn
The winds coiled in melody as they softly blew
Protecting her ears from the charlatan

Yes, back out there where the voice screeches and creaks
Who with pleasure, disturbingly articulates and reiterates
Her frightening ruin that had been set in the stones of fate
From which there would be no help, no true escape
Just fleeing moments to a secret place
Where one would dominate with credence
The other would tolerate the weight, relate, and rejuvenate
The two reduplicating dispersing the burdens with new additions
As the suffering grew stronger over the years
Fear creating animation in that hole of the soul where the spirit disappeared

Each new birth a celebration
Every death a new mourning

A mental blueprint for the construction of prototypes
Inbreed essential features
Responsibility based on devotion for others
Blind to the ‘cause and effect’ of childhood abuses
Wandering into the maturity of foul relations
Over population, incompatibilities
Generating inner clashes and torments
The setting of realization, a mind panic-stricken
The perfection of a poisonous denial system
Cracking at the cerebral stratum

Functioning ineffectively
Requiring psychological birth control
And with every fusion of unification
A union of feelings and reminiscences
Seen as a gain, feeling more misplaced, feeling alone
Falling deeper into isolation, social seclusion
The mounting self destruction
Presiding over self preservation
Realizing there is an, I, in here somewhere
Sucked dry by it all, hanging in the air

Holding on to nothing at all, a nonentity
Abandoned to long-ago too remember
I wish I could run out the door and say
I’m going to find myself today, it would be easier
But she wasn’t lost out there, she was lost in here
Under the pulsating words and throbbing fists of a mother
Forgiven but not forgotten, therein lays the irony
I am but a mold, crafted by the hands and utterance
Of my mother and it is only by rebellious inner rivalry
That I did not come to act like her, but inside this mind that’s another story