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GOT IT!
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LYNN In vivid finality,
The last walk in that eerie valley of death is taken.
When the bones can't have heavenly intervention,
To clothe their nakedness.
All is seen.
Every broken bone,
Every part that never healed, "quite right".
It revels, in the telling of the tale...
Where DNA, and all those biological chains,
Cannot stop the revalation of what happened,
In the abuse that went on in the container we call skin.
Everything is there except...
The maddening screams...
Of not understanding why...
Of the torment within the mind...
The eternal conflict, both within and without.
Man against man...his brethren,
Man against himself...a mind that doesn't,
Man against the very nature of true love.
And in the silence of trying to :
"Get It!" "Snap out of it!"
The ultimatum that whispers,
In the visceral gut where no one wants to go.
Abandonment or abuse, there is no choice.
"I leave, or you do."
That is the equation...and again, somewhere,
It's about winning:
Winning freedom...
Winning love and affection...
And the whole codependant thing feeds the venus flytrap,
Until there is no civility.
Why?
Can't we speak loud enough?
Scream, "I am so fucking hurt!"
So one, "Could get it."
And likewise,
I the black hole,
That never seemed it could be filled...
Where hurts stay open like grand canyons.
Why did I get into a relationship,
Especially if I knew I was so screwed up?
That is the place no one goes,
No one speaks the name,
Not to themselves,
Fearing, in the blackness of guilt and shame.
How can one be aware...When it's buried so deep?
The Irony...we never stop being children.
Help we couldn't ask for,
The help we wanted,
But so unable to be aware of the power of...
OUR OWN VOICE.
To say,
"Something is wrong inside!
I don't know what,
I can't get it, get at it,
I don't know what to do,
It hurts so bad,
Then my voice stilled,
Laid silent in the pain."
WE ARE OVERGROWN CHILDREN...EVERYONE.
And for the rest of our lives,
We try and help that child inside,
Groping for answers and straws....
But the adult world has alcohol, sex and drugs...
We yearn for anything that stops that pain for a second.
To give us that minute intervention of calm...
Where the pain has no voice...
Cannot exert it's rage.
As single parents,
Business executives,
From Priests to Teachers...
We fall to our human bottoms.
Some of us die, never knowing how we got there,
Or the addiction that took our life away.
Because no one told us how to stop the killing...
Of ourselves,
Of smothering others,
Of using things up,
And throwing things away...
Because the pain has perked this coffee pot,
Until it is an acidic black tar.
And no where is there a place,
That feels good to go back,
Into the chaos, into the hurt, into the utter confusion,
The shit that started the fucking wars.
Within & Without.
And it seems everyone is there when it's too late,
When we look at the body...
"It's a darn shame.
She had so much potential."
"A real crime, why didn't she say something..."
Yeah...
When the brass tax comes down,
We are booby prizes bumping into one another like bumper Cars...
Binging-Bonging like the ball in a pinball machine,
Jabbed and jolted,
Sucked into the hole,
Racking up points---giving us the love we never had...
We are lovingly held but for a moment.
Then sprung back into the violent atrocity.
Back into our own pain.
My pain thrown into your pain.
Cycling this whole metaphor again and again...
Until we do not realize the travesty.
Of how we Judge...
Others...
Ourselves...
Why don't you take the time to "GET IT"...
And not leave responsibility to "save us"
Just to me...Like I'm only flawed one here...
Why?
Because no one wants to deal with that pain...
If I can't stand my own,
And you can't stand yours,
And we can't stop the self-hatred...
By hating what we see of ourself in others...
THERE WILL BE NO LOVE.
The chasm, opens up,
And the flytrap is ready to consume the next victim.
The next relationship, the next job...the next----
I didn't cause the evil
That happened so long ago.
I will not carry it like luggage.
I will not let it own me.
I WILL NOT LET IT DEFEAT ME,
I will not chant mantras that are of no good,
That have no self love,
Nor love for others.
I will not call it my fault,
Nor point and accuse.
It happened and it cycled again...
Today, no more.
No body to look over...
No more external death,
Or internal killing of this mind, body or soul.
Yes, I have finally heard that pain.
I hear it, will not fear it, it just is.
However.....I will feel it.
Hear it's voice, and seek to make it well,
All that it tells me is wrong, on my side of the fence,
On this side of the wall.
And yes,
I have, finally....."GOT IT!"
Have you?
