Cos I can
and cos if my computer crashes
i can always get them back this way. :P
I watched as a tear fell onto the poem in front of me. My hand shook as I remembered the numerous trips to the emergency wing, my father by my side telling the doctors that it was an ‘accident at home’ again. Slowly I speak to the lady sitting in front of me. And then, it all comes flooding back.
His anger as I argue. I was just being a regular teenager, who stamps her feet and refuses to feed the dogs with a pout. But who still heads toward the fridge without further ordeal. But to him, I am fighting the authority. The fridge door cracks upon my fingers, I feel them crack, the tin slicing into my soft fingertips. The pain unbearable. He pulls me backwards, ripping my fingers from the fridges grasp, feeling the bone crumble. One big shove. A small 20kg girl flies across the kitchen, my arm breaking my fall, against the cupboards. I back away, his anger bigger than life, as he walks towards me. Clenched fists, clenched teeth. Ready to strike. And then my brother intervenes, he stands in front of my cowering body, as I hold three broken fingers and torn ligaments in my arm. “Enough” he says, his voice barely audible beyond the screams. But it’s enough to stop him. I watch as he notices what he has done. The horror of his actions. I snap back to reality.
At the sound of my gasp, the lady turns. Her eyes ask me to tell her of my flash back. But her actions remind me merely of another time.
Screams. And my father lifting my brother by the neck. His little legs fighting back, his mop of blonde hair bright against his now purpling face. My screams echoing in my own ears, as I stand, helpless on the trampoline. Not able to fight for my brother as he has once fought for me. And in horror I watch as he throws my little brother across the lawn. His little face colliding with the river rocks. The cuts around his eyes, they’ll be covered with the excuse of “I fell whilst helping dad with the gardening” but the pain mirrored in his deep blue eyes forever.
The lady now asks why I do not speak to my father. I roll my eyes at her, dismissing the simple questions. Beginning a debate on whether my actions are correct, whether my dismissive attitude towards my father is the reason for my lack of love and connection. If I had been born into a loving family, what would have happened?
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The land opens and I am sucked inwards. The blood rushes to my head and I am captured in the amazing emotions of the situation. I loose all sense of reality, of human thought. I loose all control, all ability to care for myself. And I am weak, in his arms. His lips interlocked with mine and his hand on my cheek. I am lost, forever in the world foreign to me. A world where I smile. A world where I want nothing more than to be sitting with him. Hearing every breath, every heart beat. Nothing else can interrupt this moment. For I am now content.
I am weak, to his strength. He seems to have so much confidence, so much experience in the journey we together face. Whereas I am new. I am young. And I am scared for what I am to experience, who I am becoming.
This relying upon another, this understanding that his strength can help me through what I am facing. This mutual agreement to be there for one another, always. This overall belief that we have a future to look forward to, where we will be there for one another. When all hope is gone, when all the burns begin to hurt, we know that the other is there to make sure we are never alone, that they’ll hold us till all the hurt is gone.
But I’m scared. That what I am experiencing is all merely a dream and that there is actually no hope for our future. That I am actually imagining every minute of every day and that in a blink of an eye I may loose it all. I am too scared to sleep, because I don’t want to wake from my dream. This happiness is foreign. That he doesn’t like me, but is merely a figment of my imagination. Nothing is solid. Nothing is real. Everything is imagined.
I feel my doubt washing away. He steps towards me, his lips full. His eyes, their emerald green, piercing my soul. Collapsing my lungs. I breathe deeply as I watch him watch me. His arms encircle my hips, and we slowly dance to our own music. His chin on my head. My head placed against his heart. Me, relaxed in his embrace. His kisses down my neck. And back up again.The intense feelings of content powerlessness.
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