A Hundred Miles Away

I have hope in a happy ending when
Music offers melodies that I’ve never heard before
And the sky is whisked with a peaceful portrait of blue.
The wind blows and carries the smell of a bush with roses
When it’s silent and my heart is undistrubed and light
But never do I find peace when my eyes are open and
I see my mother standing before me
Even though she’s a hundred miles away.

When the turntable has played the same song again and again and again
When I’m pacing back and forth, on the verge of screaming
When I’m willing to sacrifice my physical well being with razors of anger
When I gasp myself awake from a night full of terror,
It’s always the same fear, the same shame, and the same immobilizing dread
When I think about being within my mother’s reach
Even when she’s a hundred miles away.

Locked doors
Set alarms that activate a light just because the wind has blown too hard
The chain on my bedroom door
The shirts that reach below my fingers
The hats that cover a face that would show the retreat of one who was once ready for this battle,
I hide. I wait.

It’s always the little things.
It’s always the colour of  a car or the braids in a young girl’s hair
It’s when the clock hits 3 or when a fork holds a meal that I didn’t sweat for
It’s when I give a panicked spin to see who tapped me
When my arms are wrapped around me and I rock back and forth
When my mind is about to break, and I don’t even try to fight it.
It’s when I have no more breath to keep going
When all options are spent and all feats impossible
When all I want is to never see the look on her face or the sound of her voice
In my dreams or in my head
That’s when a hundred miles away comes blasting through the barrel of a gun
To bring me to a happy ending
Of music and skies blue, and rose bushes that carry the aroma of peace.

(By  Austin’s Arrow of Sundrip Journals, used with permission.)



One thought on “A Hundred Miles Away

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