Red, hot flames
The last time I saw you-
was a mistake;
a picture fastidiously hidden away
in a file.
My first response:
“Oh (surprise).”
And, then,
almost immediate,
“See. I’m FINE!”
Thirty seconds later…
not so much.
A puddle of reaction and feeling.
Shame,
and sorrow,
and devastating loss.
And fear.
Fear of how dear
you still were
eight months later.
Of how dear, I knew,
(in that deep down place) you always would be.
A part of the whole;
my whole,
the whole that is me.
Yet,
it was that special place you, indeed, fleed.
Tended to, at first,
like a newborn puppy.
And, then, threw…directly into the flames…
of your own self-loathing,
insecurity,
terror,
and fear.
Those flames licked away at my tiny, tender, newborn frame;
that which had unfolded with the trust I freely gave.
The fuzzy, baby hairs of shared
magic,
love,
and soul connection-
singed away-
by the daggers of red, hot;
undigested rage;
that had nothing to do with me.
Baby puppy burned to a crisp.
How could you?
When I so openly and freely gave?
How could you throw away this most precious of gifts-
right into those flames-
never to return again,
the same?
How could you do that to me?
By Lara O.
Holy Lament Member