LAUGHTER

She laughed a contrived, awkward laugh. She knew very well the difference between humour and scorn. She was trying to ignore the greasy smell of cynicism that wafted from his words. But her laughter, however untrue, only encouraged him. He jubilantly continued to mock her beliefs, her faith, her family, her life, everything she considered herself to be made of and she just swallowed her anger and pride and laughed. He felt powerful, like a bully pushing a child half his size to the ground and repeatedly kicking her in the chest while she shielded herself with her hands knowing that neither mercy nor refuge would ever come. Except he used his words to put her down and she used her laughter to protect herself. That was the only purpose her laughter had now. To protect her. She never used her lips to smile, never used them to kiss, hardly ever to eat and even less to speak. But laugh she did. The repercussions of silence in front of him were far too loud. His incessant screaming hurt her too much. They made the kind of scars that couldn't be seen, the kind that couldn't be used as proof. When on several occasions she had tried to share the invisible violence she faced, it only made everyone think she complained too much and that was even worse to bear than the abuse she got from him. So she stayed silent to the world and laughed only for him... The sad thing about pretending is that if you do it long enough, everybody will start believing you. The tragic thing about pretending is that if you do it long enough, even you will start believing yourself. She had played along for so long now that everyone, including herself, thought she was happy. So when they found her body swaying gently in her bedroom with one end of the rope around her neck and the other around her ceiling fan, they called it a tragedy... not murder. Just like I do, ending with small poem

When life seems low after you’ve given it your all and
when people you love don’t help you when you fall if they’re the reason you’re sad
and you fret baby, don’t let it get to you.
Don’t regret. you stand by them
when they need you that’s what makes you who you are if they choose to bail
when you’re just a little frail it’s a pity they don’t see right through you they’re unlucky and really stupid!
Its not fair they don’t cherish you Cause if they knew what a gold mine they had around them
They’d dig you just like I do!
All these boyfriends, lovers and men you got And I’m still here to take your tears away
Just now,

its from across the miles!

The Story of the Cliff

They’re tearing at me
Ghasty fingers crawl over my skin
Pulling.
“Come!” they cry
“We can fill that empty hole.”
Indeed there it is, where my heart should be there was a chasm
It was deep and the edges were sharp
Like it had been carelessly carved out
I put my hand to my chest
And felt the emptiness,
The dark substance-lacking air that filled that space
And still the fingers pulled
Pricking and tugging
Pulling my hair, pinching my skin
And I wept.
In front of me stretched the edge of a cliff.
It looked terrifying. Black rock, red backdrop.
The bottom was clouded in darkness.
And it was away from the edge these fingers pulled me.
“Come!” they cry
“This is dangerous. We want to protect you.
Come where it is comfortable and your heart will be filled.”
Oh, the struggle within. The choice seemed so easy. But a haunting song seemed to call me forward to the edge. While the fingers pulled me back.
Forces clashing armor against armor inside of me,
No white horses verses black horses.
All the knights were dressed the same,
Wolves in sheep’s clothing
But I couldn’t tell who was who
And it raged
And my insides ached
I grew weary from the conflict,
Weary of the noises.
I wanted to silence it all,
The haunting song and the voices that beckoned me backward.
I began to shut myself down, like a flashlight out of battery.
I numbed myself to all.
The fight doesn’t seem worth it, I thought.
So I sat down.
The fingers still pricked, but I didn’t feel them.
The cliff still called but I didn’t listen.
I just sat.
And sat.
And sat.
And sat.
Until one day I rose my hand to my chest and felt the hole that had been carved
And I ran my fingers around the edge,
The sharp, jagged edges
And it pricked me
I drew back my finger and a drop of blood rose to the skin.
And I had a feeling,
A thought.
A remembrance of what is was like to live engaged in the world.
I remembered the pain and the beauty and hurt and the joy
And all at once my ears were opened again,
And the noises were deafening.
My eyes opened and the ground was shaking
The world had not stopped as I had supposed.
It raged on.
It was chaotic, overpowering.
The fingers tugged,
“Come,” they cried
“Where there is no pain. We can take you there.”
The sirens song rose up from the cliff’s edge.
And I shook at the experience of it all.
My body trembled.
I tried to throw off the hands that clutched me.
And I ran to the edge,
Staring down into what seemed like nothingness.
It was uncertainty.
Jumping surly meant death.
I leaned over,
The voices growing frantic behind me,
Beckoning me to retreat
“Come back!” they cried
“Come back!”
“Why should I do this?!” I yelled into the cavern.
“Why should I choose this? What will you do about this hole in my chest?!”
I sobbed, emotions of desperation, fury, and hope pulsed through my veins.
“What do you want from me?!” I cried.
The haunting melody drifted up from the cavern.
I realized for the first time that there were words interlaced in the song,
Why hadn’t I heard them before?
They sang this:
“Die to self, Oh beloved
And learn to live again
Nothing can fill that hole
Or completely heal the pain within.
But We too have holes,
In our hands and our side
We suffered for you
Come, oh Bride
Prepare yourself
For Our kingdom is near
It is not man,
But it is us you should fear.
We won’t take all your pain away
We won’t make you whole
Not in this life anyway,
Can We complete your soul.
But We came to you to feel your pain,
To make each tear our own
If you take a chance with us,
You will never be alone.
We forgive your fear and yours sin are washed
If you decide to come,
It is hard,
But it’s truth
So, jump, beloved one.”
No promise of ease
Or of my desires being fulfilled came from the song that echoed through the rocks.
The ghastly fingers gripped harder,
Their voices stronger.
“Come!” they cried,
“We have a place with no pain.
We have a place with no sorrow!
Come!”
“Liars!” I screamed
And I jumped.

I Wish You Enough

Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said, "I love you and I wish you enough". The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom". They kissed and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking,"Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever? ". "Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?". "I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral,"she said. "When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I wish you enough'. May I ask what that means?". She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone". She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. "When we said, I wish you enough', we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory. I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright, I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye. She then began to cry and walked away. They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them. Take time to live......To all my friends and loved ones, I wish you enough.