God is a Trickster A short story on grief and guilt
catch and release :
Is there a point when we know the big fall back ? The game we fall back into trusting arms only to be caught safely in the arms of love? I started packing everything for the UPS guy to pick up in the morning, packing not my noted skill as I tossed items in the boxes stopping to exclaim, "hey I remember this " , causing a huge delay in finishing on time as I jumped around my loft in Jedi outfit swinging the Light Saber. Sparky my cat glancing at me and if I could read his thoughts, " millions of people in the world and I won this ?"
Pause and get out the white out :
The knock on the door was soft as I grabbed the Irish blanket bought in England, I peeked out the door just allowing my right eye it's vision quest reward, " yes?" I looked up at a tall man with a UPS uniform on, " I am here to pick the boxes to be sent", I pulled open the door letting the man do his job signed the paper a quick shut of the door, that was too easy. I looked around my loft and thought ," how could my life just be in a few boxes, I sighed having no energy , readied myself with a hot shower. When you cry in the shower no one knows, at least that's how it goes in the movies.
Sshhhhhhh: Never tell Never speak Never let anyone in Never trust again Never believe again
I think I deserve this somehow I deserve all of this and I let go of fighting tired of never winning
A voice not heard no one safe guards me alone is something new for me I feel my dreams die like a abused animal in a dirty shelter If I could out run my hurt I would certainly try I fight the good battle as the Irish would I do know my Grand Mary would be so proud and laugh along as my words find a home in the hearts of those full of vanity
Time out again:
I seemed to always be in a fight at school seemed my poverty status a fun past time or was it the color of my Mum's skin? I fought them all at recess as my long Irish curls fell across my face I would say quietly, " say a word against me ? I nor care but say a bad word against the only good person to walk this earth such as my Mum and I will beat you into regret" Always pulled off by the school Principal to have a note pinned to my old red coat, " yes Bonnielynn was fighting again today"
I knew my fighting worried my Mum but I could never tell her that is was her they spoke wrong about, so I accepted my punishment, and sat studying my words to use instead of my fists.
I cannot explain how big that hurt was it near killed me, I prayed for release My anger towards the betrayal and the words spoken against my family fueled my tongue. Some try to tell me the fighting is done But no one tells the Irish such things I never did a harm yet my family was ??
Is it just the thought of loving you and not love?
Really? Let me tell you I remember his laughter real and always smiling such goodness loyalty I don't see that much any more and me? We all know about me decide for yourself what is real bury it all if you can as God laughs at both of us.