Dealing with the past trauma in creative way
The bridge over the troubled water
From the past
through the present
to the future
we shuffle on the bridge
of our lives
some of us
see just the finishing line
not even noticing
the gentle flow
some of us
gets stuck
in the middle
smelling the roses
as they go
and some of us
gets stuck
at the start...
Never truly be able
to make
that first step
too scared
to cross the bridge
of life
too scared
to find out
what lies ahead
so they keep
living over and over
in our heads
the horrors
or the sweetest moments
if they are lucky enough
that beginning
of their special time
when it all have started
just for them...
It was so hot last night
I opened the window to look out
and asked the stars
what my future holds
when my long lost cousin called…
Do you remember? She asked
I do, I whispered
searching desperately
in all the dark corners of my mind
there it was
he big old clutch of dust
still clouding my heart
I forgot to clean ir up..
My cousin kept talking
while I was struggling to untangle
the dirty secret of the past
we both have been always
scared to mention or remember
She said she is sick
in her body and her mind
when she can not breathe
she wonders out
and walks again all those paths
we used to walk hand in hand
her and I …
I can not find you there anymore,
she whispered,
did you abandon me too?
No one else can understand
what we went through,
no one else can relate,
please do not forget
the black and white snaps
of our childhood
I will be all alone
here,
if you do…
I sigh, and say
I am still here,
the old photo album
in my lap
covered in the worn out rabbit’s skin
my grandfather skinned
with his skilful hands
and I opened it
obediently
on the page
she wanted me too
and together
we roam again
the human misery
the smallness of one human soul
and hate
just to wipe
my old grandma’s handkerchief
on my cheek
all those tears
that never spilled
because we have been
just too scared
to cry
back then…
Until she finds her peace
again
my long lost
and always so close to me
sister of my soul
but just for tonight
I know
because the morning comes
and she will call again,
always searching
always hungry
to find the answers
for the questions
she doesn’t know how to ask
so she keeps wandering
around
among the crowds
of strangers
who are deaf and blind
until she spots me
somewhere in the distance
and she runs
oh how fast she runs
just to catch the glimpse
of me
and shouts
stop
you are the only bridge
I have left
to cross back to the past...
I turn back to hear her pleads
but this time I just wave,
the old rabbit’s skin book
thrown over the rail
to the muddy waters below
I shake my head
and beckon her to follow me
I am already in the middle
of my bridge of life
there is no turning back...
