growing. up.

Can be less than expected. Even cruel in it´s underestimated trait
– To end

Fleeting. I try to grasp all the forms confiding you.
Words and guestures. Often in haste, so full of anger.
Which origin i can not decipher.
Are etched into my skull, on the map my brain so naturally created.
You say, it has to be that way.
Whenever i cry out in pain. Infront of you. You ask my what to do.

All of this happened so many years ago. But for the child inside of me,
It never stopped. I try to draw it out of the shadows and weary minded memories.
Latley

You told me you loved me. So many times. “I am proud of you, my eldest.”
And still, he kept hitting me, tearing my soul to pieces. from time to time.
The mind developes strategies to put together the shattered fragments.
My mind lost some parts through time, to cope and live, a life i slowly come to understand.

The almost average brutallity of me, growig up in a mix of tears and laughter.

Grief over your weeping body. Silent weeping.
Shocked by my own mortality. My wilted, decaying body under ground. Melting with your ashes. Digested by worms and maggots. My soul is coiling up around herself. Freed of daily ordinaries. Pressed and filed are the normed behavior patterns , fading in the memories of the living.
What remains are filtered fragments. To sougar-coat the past. The memories. To ultimately accept the never unchangeable.

Now:
I am. But diffrent. All these versions of myself. Most of the time.

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3 thoughts on “growing. up.

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