Sunday, January 3, 2010

Meet Me

I remember having dreams of beating up a child, a little girl to be exact, at certain times during the not-so-distant past. As these dreams unfolded, my emotions would be extreme. Usually, I was filled with rage and sadness at the same time. Each slap and kick would be accompanied by my nerve-shattering shrieks of agony and anger. The girl's body reacted in accordance to my blows, but her countenance remained passive. She would not do so much as to even blink. All the while, she would just stare at me with those large expressionless eyes. At times the dream would be too graphic and brutal that the white dress she always wore would become stained with her own blood, as I spilled my rage at her, hitting and scratching, and tearing off chunks of her long shiny black hair. Yet through it all, she just took the beatings I gave her. Not once did she react, even when she was already pinned helplessly on the ground with me on top of her, pounding at her like a mad woman. Waking up mid-sleep after having these troubling dreams, my chest would heave from the intensity of the emotions that still haunted me long after I have been conscious. The anger and remorse that followed were too strong that there were times I could not keep myself from just crying after I had awaken. I was so sorry for what I did; I felt so guilty and sad for hurting the girl badly. I knew who the little girl was. I knew her very well...but what I didn't understand was why I would be so angry at her. For quite some time now, I don't recall having dreams of her. I want to think that the little girl must be happy now. However, despite my wishful thinking, I still can't get the nagging thought that up until now she still feels sad...

If you could see the girl living inside of me,
what would you say to her?
Would you nod your head in greeting?
Would you shake her hand and say, "How do you do?"
Or would you just turn your back on her
and walk away
As though you haven't seen her
As if you've never met
As if you haven't looked into those large, sad eyes
Pretending she never was there
That no such girl existed at all
And that no such girl could have lived in isolation
Deep inside of this woman you have known all your life
Whose smiling face perfectly contrasts
That of the eternally sad expression in those little girl's eyes
who has lived in total isolation for an insane thirty-three years
Unrecognized, neglected, and unloved
Imprisoned in loneliness as she counted imaginary stars
and told of many a great story that have yet to be penned
Collecting every tear drop she shed for the sight, sound, or thought 
of anything and everything that is beautiful
As she stayed in her forced isolation of shattering silence
All the while praying and hoping that you would come knocking one day
at the tiny door of that prison which held the secrets of her endless universe
And say, "Hello."

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