Number-one bestselling author
all of myself
inside of me.
There was too
much of it,
too much shadow
and darkness, grief
and self-doubt and
it consumed me,
filling me with
a tar-like substance
that would slip
through my skin,
staining my clothes.
A smell came
from my clothes
and there was
a look about me
of quiet desperation.
I could barely
walk at that point
and was like
the third part
of the Sphinxes
riddle. I was
cold in even
in the heat
of the sun.
I was lost
within myself no
longer able to
hold myself together.
I was breaking
like glass streaked
with smoke. I
sat in the sun,
its fierce brightness
shining down on
me and I felt
nothing. I closed
my eyes and
drifted on a
dark turbulent sea
that threw its waves
against the inside
of me. Tears
slipped out of
my eyes like
black pearls. They
landed in my
lap and I
tried to catch
them. It was
then that she
spoke to me:
“Now why would you want to hold on to that shit for?”
I opened my
eyes and saw
a woman sitting
beside me. She
had kind eyes,
deep golden brown.
The sun shone
around her like
a halo. She
was motioning
at the pearls
of my despair.
“They are all I have left.”
I told her.
The words were
thick coming out
of my mouth.
“They are all I know now.”
She gave me a
kind look of
such understanding, of
knowing that more
black pearls began
to slide, slide
down my cheeks.
“You can’t heal with all of that inside you if you don’t let all of that go, how do you expect to fill the empty spaces with something else?”
I looked at
her and couldn’t
tell what age
she was. She
could be twenty
or thirty-five. She
reached out and
took my hands
in hers. The
pearls in my
palms fell to
the ground. Her
hands were as
warm as the sun.
I shook my head,
uttering words that
I had kept close,
inside the shadows.
“I don’t know what to do now. I’m so afraid all the time. I can’t live like this. I’ve been thinking of ending it, just calling it quits. Of giving up.”
She gave me
another look of
understanding, as if
she had been
exactly where I
was before, as
if she knew.
She nodded and
didn’t have to say
anything but
then she did,
in the softest,
kindest of voices.
“You are not a quitter. It’s not in you. Let the darkness go. It will be okay.”
She squeezed my
hand and I knew
that it would
be. I nodded
and even that
small movement of
agreement was like
a knife blade
severing that which
had been holding
me back. The broken
shadows began to
fall away from
me, a slow
trickle of pearls
that plunked and
plinked and clicked
on the grass
and the bench.
The trickle soon
increased, real tears,
stained black by
the smoke shadows
inside of me
flowing from my
eyes. I tried
to cover my
eyes to stem
the flow of
the tears. She
pulled my hands
back down into
my lap. I
looked at her.
“When the darkness is gone, what do I fill the emptiness with? I’ve lived with these shadows for so long. I don’t know who I am anymore.”
She interlaced her
fingers in mine
and the heat
from her hands
increased, filling me
with such warmth.
“You can fill the emptiness with new things. Let the past go. Only then can you discover who you are meant to be.”
I nodded again,
the motion another
swipe at the
web of smoke
and shadow that
I wore around
myself. The tears
came then, a
flood of black
tears that soaked
my shirt, my
clothes, the grass.
They stopped for
a moment, as
if taking a
breath or pause.
Then more tears
came, but they
were not filled
with smoke. These
were real tears,
clear and pure.
They became
a torrent that
lifted the black
pearls and slid
them along through
the grass, away
from me. Once
the last black
pearl vanished, the
tears stopped, I
sat there, wet
with spent emotion
and looked at
the woman again.
She had not
let go, had
held my hands
the entire time.
“Do you feel better?”
She asked me.
“Yes.”
I said. I
felt empty but
I didn’t feel
heavy anymore. I
wasn’t weighed down
by my past.
I had let
it all go.
“Good,”
She said, her
voice kind, soft.
“Now the healing can begin.”
“What will happen?”
“You’ll let your true self shine. That’s all you have to do.”
The sun framing
her head like
a halo grew
brighter and I
had to look
away, close my
eyes. When the
sun dimmed, I
looked back. The
woman was gone,
but I still
felt her hands
grasping mine and
I realized I
no longer felt
alone.
Your symbolism resonates honest and pure
Thanks! This one surprised me, I saw the quote on Facebook and immediately had the idea for the poem about the darkest point in my life.
Your dark point has served you well and you have risen from the ashes.