her exile followed her the home from which she was cast out haunting her every movement through the world scoring her soul with the words uttered at her birth -- she must go, or she must die. she counted and recounted them, those words, more nights in a brief life than she had learned to count in school, each night leaving the long, terror-filled lapses in her memory gaping with the bloodying rages that were not hers alone. rage rallying within her small being, day after day in her own wide soul, possessing her too often for strangers in distant lands to grasp with even loving hands -- disappointment, exile, tragedy for each one hopes gone amiss, possibility squandered, by none understood, searching for calm, longing for acceptance, wishing deeply for someone strong enough to hold her, stand with her until the rage was spent and the weeping ended, to be with her at home. fe 7/7/13 for a child
Posted on: Mon, 08 Jul 2013 04:01:56 +0000
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