Folds of sunlight seep through the split blinds as she lies. She wonders. Who’s eyes am I looking through. The wounded child who reads faces but not words? The siren who both heals and consumes? An enigma. The many faced one. They all begin nameless. Faceless in a sea of yearning. A lady in waiting is she as she lies. Anticipation of the tinkling bell or unhinged sobbing. A train whistle or shattering glass. These are her summonings. A dreadful moaning…a cry from beneath her exterior. This call springs her into action as she lie prostrate in contemplation.. Seek…search…uncover..reveal…. they wisper suddenly.. She snaps her neck. Arched and peering into a endless mirror of reflection.. Who are these beings inside me. Our result.. our complexity expressed.. The litany of feelings..told like a tale…spoken through clenched teeth. The pain slides over her like black smoke. Licking her now bleeding falsly healed wounds.. “Remember us” There is a wealth of knowledge and understanding hidden in those foregone conclusions. The way you thought…felt…. The attachment to that first perfect hit of the feelings connected.. “Let your tears carve the map” she heard…or dreamed. Nameless and faceless, that’s how they are born. Trying to cry without eyes, or sing without mouths.. Fitting into the cracks..the lotus in mud with deep roots….expanding without restraint or observation.. But not the skys of pink and gradient of white atop vibrant green are they… They scratch. Pry open moments of serenity and clarity. They claw and bite like caged vermin who took bait.. Despite desperation they remain.. How can she remain unscathed on this journey to self “The wounds will fester and be reopened, seek us still” Closing her eyes but opening her sight she searches. Welling up and overflowing…. Her shimmering mirror of love radiates acceptance to her tribe. Her cells tingle and each aspect of self is carefully caressed in exposure. These lost women. Begging for names and placement.. Longing to see the sun. Longing to transform. The ivy has grown up and over. “Free us. Recreate the narrative and let us live.” They have been left homeless and shunned So long they’re trueness is hidden. She knows..they need they’re sister. They need me.
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