burden of proof…

This year can stop already. It’s been a hard-core 365, a gut wrenching rollercoaster ride I’d sooner avoid than repeat. Luckily, we’re down to December and need only survive the next 30 days until 2012 dawns fresh and bright. Ye gods, am I ever ready for a blank page and a promising beginning! More writing, less drama. Travel. Laughter. Joy. Love. A coming together of all this year tore asunder. May we assimilate the challenges, let go the painful past and move the f*ck forward. I’m ready: bring! it! on! In the meantime, I’m busy burying 2011.

In keeping, here’s the latest ‘product’ of a 10 minute prompt:

{ proof }

It was the start of something and the end of others. I waited for your speech, waited on words to translate what you wanted to say. You stayed silent as a fruit swollen, laden with fears of fall. I cried, waiting for your mouth to open and the rot to spew between us. I felt it coming, sensed the fragility of time, tolerance, your fatal affection. Currency of bruises spent, rough rosettes to remind us: body learnt by Braille, your teeth and fingerprints. It didn’t matter which. Your love was harsh and biting, regardless of its medium. I became brittle, breakable but remained stubbornly untameable. That incensed you: you hated my spirit, resented its fire – the unquenchable me-ness which you felt diminished your you-ness. I failed to understand this weird algebra – emotional equivalent, let x = x and relegated one of us to oblivion. How is that love?

We both knew the answer, having long struggled to solve the secret, comprehend its proof: you and I were mathematically dammed together. It was never love. Only a problem without end. Or something simpler and all the more basic beside, like need? A desire for power? A sort of security? Whatever it was, it cost us dearly: me in scars and you, an abandoned humanity.

Over eons, wandering silently through massive, empty halls of memory, I’ve wondered whether it could have been different. Could we, somehow, deftly derailed the train and spared one another such unbearable suffering? Was there another path for us but the one that led directly to destruction’s door? Could I, simply, have failed to show up, conveniently avoided meeting you and catapulting us into the abyss? I doubt it.

Age greys hair and pummels wayward hearts to supplication while I ruminate. The problem of us, solve for x. Did we desire some kind of cruel oblivion, not so much for one another but our own fractured selves? Perhaps dying together; wrecked, bruised and bloody, we finally realized the value of life.

*

arithmetic of alchemy...

2 responses to “burden of proof…

  1. Glad I found you Scarlet…And your words resonate although we are struggling with very different kinds of griefs.
    “Could we, somehow, deftly derailed the train and spared one another such unbearable suffering? Was there another path for us but the one that led directly to destruction’s door? Could I, simply, have failed to show up, conveniently avoided meeting you and catapulting us into the abyss?” Nearly a year on, I am still wondering…
    Good luck to you on your journey, and roll on 2012!

    • I hear you Lady E – this year & 2010 have put me through trials of frost & fire. Though I’m ever hopeful that the issues that came to the uncomfortable forefront, forced us to face & resolve will result in a clearer, cleaner and altogether healthy & happy 2012. Thank you for dropping by – I believe we’re linked through the fabulous Lady D from motherinterrupted.wordpress.com? *sigh* strength to the sistas! May we heal and journey towards wholeness – with great soundtracks and in awesome company. Love & respekt, Lady Sx

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