So the strangest thing happened today...
I was sitting under dressed outside. Simply watching the flow of blood gently drip from my outstretched wrist, Somehow finding some playful joy in watching how it melts straight through snow.
Father showed up.
Don't know how He got there, but that's just how He is I guess.
I don't know how long He watched either. Maybe since I felt Him there. Maybe since I slashed my wrist.
He watched me as I bled one of those stupid operator symbols in the snow.
For fun.
I admit... someone I thought dead slipped through...
I found myself singing.
I don't remember doing that since I was eight...
No I will not tell you what I was singing.
But...
He placed a hand on my shoulder...
Not like he usually does, with that stomach churning shock that's usually sent through the system...
But... comfortingly...
I admit... I felt safe again...
Like when I was eight...
Damn why does it always have to trace back to then...
... It's all mind games. We're not safe until the moment we die.
ReplyDeleteThough I'm reasonably sure you already knew that.
I guess us puny humans just aren't meant to understand elder trains of thought.
ReplyDeleteAnd trauma always has a nasty way of coming back, don'tcha know?
What you said brought an faded image in my head.
ReplyDeleteI watched you and him while I read the this post.
What pain should I call it when I finished reading?
Sweet, sadish pain to me.
7..:.u
Sorry.....
Spence, while I find something distasteful about you, you still speak truths...
ReplyDeleteKitty, if trauma could heal... we'd all be better off.
Butterfly, I guess it's fine.