Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Hole In My Head
There is a hole in the back of my head. I try to brush it out. But it won’t go. It reminds me of my mother. I look in the mirror. I am not them. Her. Her sin of omission. My hands fumble. Try and match packet to powder. Stain to incident. I have this feeling. I can’t name it. It won’t go. To try and pack it up. Throw it away. Is futile. It will follow me. And follow me. Until time is up. Time is up. My head jerks. Down. To my chin. So heavy I can’t keep looking straight. To line up the scissors. To cover up. To forget. But it won’t forget. The clocks I tried to stop. They are tripping and falling. Going backwards and forwards. Tricking me. Tripping me. Testing me. I put on the little denim jacket. The one with lots of pockets. For things. Deposits. Reminders. Me. A trail of blood spots from pocket to pocket. Sleeve to cuff. Neck to chest. I wipe my fingers over them. Trying to do the jigsaw. Match the pieces. Come up with a picture. It hurts. The dark glasses ease it. Things. I slip them on. Whenever she comes back. Whenever there is a mirror. Whenever I find a hole in my head that won’t brush away.
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13 comments:
Dear Jae Sometimes we have to remember, feelings are just feelings and sometimes they aren't even real. And in truth you have plenty of "time." All that you need. And some of those Damn jigsaws are just too hard, I have none, take too much time, and as I said sometimes too hard. This morning on waking, there was a lovely yellow, my fav, like a brilliant banana slug on the horizon, today will be a "good day." Blessings, you will have a good day, too.
It is strange that we think so much of us is moulded by the past. In reality every new day is an opportunity to be reborn, fresh, beautiful, untroubled. I try not to look in the mirror, I don't know that face, because I am looking outwards not inwards. Some hurt is always there but disappears when you don't look in that mirror. Great writing Jae, it is just like being lost in a maze.
I'm never too happy when I see my mother in me, but then I remember I can stop the cycle now (it's hard sometimes, though).
Jae, all I can say is Wow! Brilliant writing.
Sounds like the stormy time before the inevitable calm, the dissonance that precedes harmony.
All of life is one long lesson. We feel the pain deeply, the hurt of it becomes so familiar it's easier to hold onto it than it is to let go because if we let go it may hurt us again. But the real life freedom comes from that letting go. My understanding of this is, you are afraid of living, of being you in case you turn out like your mother? I don't know, but, we are each of us unique and although we may carry some of their blood in our veins, they are not us and whatever happens in the past brings us to who we have become in our present. It seems you are growing from whatever painful past you had, through each and every word you think and then write.
Life is as hard or, as easy as we ourselves allow for it to be.
You are so full of beautiful, tormented, gifted, expression and, you paint your life story so well in such vivid colour.
Another great write and, read.
it's funny how no matter how we try we see our parents in ourselves. the descriptive way you put his and the intricate prose makes these pieces you write amazing.
Thank you Annell..today was a 'good day'..no unsolicited holes in the head.. xoxo
I hope you found the exit Old Egg..thank you..as always..
Indeed..thanks Laurie.. ;)
Thanks Christopher..
Let's hope..thank you Kim..
Thank you as ever for your insight and knowing Daydreamer..
Thank you Sheilagh..
Jae
a friend said that poetry is nothing more than each of us trying to disentangle our own minds...Your vision, your voice, we wander this landscape with you. I have no answers but "virtually" hold you hand.
You so beautifully wrote what we all feel at point of our lives!
spoken inside the mind
The thing about those holes in the back of the head is that you can't see them clearly, and they are so tempting to pick at.
it is easy to imagine myself there.
managing the pieces and pockets.
powerful writing.
Thank you Dee, Gautami, Alice and Lucy...Jae
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