It came to me in a flash today; “This isn’t over at all, surviving this, - I may not survive it yet.” It’s harder and harder to think. I can act outwardly with grace, but inwardly there is such horror and screaming. I don’t want to be here without him. The pull is stronger, the call more compelling. The moment I am still the storm begins. There is no center, no point of clarity and vision, - only this swirl of screaming. I keep moving, always moving; through space, through time, my mind always moving, because stillness is screaming.
It is harder and harder. And I have become desperate for distraction. I am starving for the lack of Hunter. Better not to exist than to continue without him, or better to fight my way to him, wherever he is. I don’t think I’ve allowed even myself to know how far gone I am. This separation is dangerous for me. The cost of functioning is this split: “To be here, I must not know myself.” So I am disintegrated, disintegrating. I am no longer whole. “Integritas, consonantia, claritas”: wholeness, harmony, radiance.
I am split, not whole. My sound is a scream. My radiance is a mask, not revealing, but concealing myself, - even from myself.
I am drowning in this fire
The flaming out of fierce desire
Born of grief and loss and love
This Phoenix will not rise above
The ashes of her own demise
I am not safe, to others or to myself. I am in flames. Why does it not consume me? I am willing…. – speak the word only.
Hunter, my Seeker, I seek you.
No comments:
Post a Comment