Edging to the Edge of a Razor Blade
Three - Nantucket Island, 4th of July
Reprieve from mother's manic episodes
A ferry across the channel to move some
energy and 3 females in their various
stances, ages and dispositions - this one
a toddler of 3. The firecrackers blasting
the fireworks bombarding, I am screaming
NO MORE
and the laughing off of my terror *it's nothing*
*don't be afraid* *it's pretty, look*
Try saying this to an animal caught in the headlights
and lighting a firecracker to boot.
Doesn't work. In fact, the animal will more than likely
collapse in heart failure.
To this day - I am so very sensitive to noises.
Smells.
Energy.
Particularly engines and explosions, dogs barking
and the smell of smoke.
Could this be a carry over from a previous life?
Holocaust?
I was in the back of the truck where we were gassed.
The dogs were barking.
The engines being revved up.
The harder they were revved the more exhaust.
The more exhaust the more lethal the dose.
And the explosions of bombs going off.
They couldn't rescue me. The Americans.
I was already dead.
Two minutes too late.
And so it was meant to be?
A possibility.
Would explain why I am a basket case today
When faced with these bombardments to my psyche.
And it pisses me off to no end why no body can help
us - those that suffer so horrifically from the cuts
in our souls that bring us to the edge of a razor blade
and with enough noises and smells we are pushed
over
to the other Side.
Reprieve from mother's manic episodes
A ferry across the channel to move some
energy and 3 females in their various
stances, ages and dispositions - this one
a toddler of 3. The firecrackers blasting
the fireworks bombarding, I am screaming
NO MORE
and the laughing off of my terror *it's nothing*
*don't be afraid* *it's pretty, look*
Try saying this to an animal caught in the headlights
and lighting a firecracker to boot.
Doesn't work. In fact, the animal will more than likely
collapse in heart failure.
To this day - I am so very sensitive to noises.
Smells.
Energy.
Particularly engines and explosions, dogs barking
and the smell of smoke.
Could this be a carry over from a previous life?
Holocaust?
I was in the back of the truck where we were gassed.
The dogs were barking.
The engines being revved up.
The harder they were revved the more exhaust.
The more exhaust the more lethal the dose.
And the explosions of bombs going off.
They couldn't rescue me. The Americans.
I was already dead.
Two minutes too late.
And so it was meant to be?
A possibility.
Would explain why I am a basket case today
When faced with these bombardments to my psyche.
And it pisses me off to no end why no body can help
us - those that suffer so horrifically from the cuts
in our souls that bring us to the edge of a razor blade
and with enough noises and smells we are pushed
over
to the other Side.
Comments