Smithereens

 

Ripped, torn, broken, devastated,

Too terrified to move, to try, to live.

The insides of me lie twisted, smouldering, annihilated

Still bleeding, still hurting, still screaming.

 

The first time, ten complete years did it take,

To stitch those pieces back together,

Little by little, thread, by piece,

Wove them back together with help from ‘Time’ and ‘Distractions’ those two professional doctors of broken insides.

 

Then the tempest came back, camouflaged this time in a sweet beatific smile,

And those pieces they ripped all over again.

Painstaking years of labour,

Again, lay strewn, some torn, some in smithereens.

 

Do I have the courage to try again I ask?

Courage to rebuild, to piece together, to stitch again.

The brokenness, the emptiness, the streaming eyes,

Doesn't let me see beyond these pieces lying here asunder.

 

'Time' that grand old man might have those elusive answers,

But the screams from within they do smother,

Any answers, any light, any possibilities.

The brokenness, the streaming eyes, the emptiness, my reality for today is all I see.

 

Cowering in a corner, too afraid to come out into the light,

Every move I shrink from, my demons holding me tight.

Flashes of frightful memories steal wisps of a smile

Laughter, mirth forgotten, shrouded in blankets thick.

 

Not sure, don't know, if I'll ever recover

To brave once more, the elements, to reconcile

So, for now I cower

In this little dark recess, this dinghy but safe harbour of my mind.

 

Perhaps if I don't venture yet again

Might I not feel that joy, but the sorrow I am sure to avoid

Isn't that a fair exchange then, to not feel, to not know that light again,

And also not to feel that brokenness, that emptiness, that raw deep wound?