Womb awakening

We are part of the same network
Blood linking us together
Your pain is not mine
And yet…
It’s written in my DNA

We’re familly
This special bond
Many pains brought together
And never we thought
It could be different

It’s time
To walk alone
No guilt in letting go
Of a story untold

No guilt in leaving
Someone ought to break
The invisible link
Of hardships

We can’t carry on
Letting the past decide
Of our future

It’s time
For each one of us
To make the choice
Of better tomorrows

May we bring forgivness
Inside
Whathever we may feel
Whathever our scars

We are the only ones
With the power
To heal each other’s wounds

By choosing ourselves
Our own growth
Our own pace

The freedom to be
Our own savior
Our best mate

Finding outside the lineage
Our own truth
Our voice
Hidden behind the veil of distress

Your story

@MK

Rewriting the story

Of an unknown love
As sacred as gold

Together since…
And yet I thougt
I could give you away

Precious gift
So tiny
Inside my belly

My steps
Frozen
My heart
Broken

A story
Of guilt
And love

Rewriting the story

So you can understand
Where you come from

A new road…

It struck me recently. This life, building undergrounds, searching to get out and breath. And yet building more, as if walking without something between me and the sky, between me and the bright light, was too fearful.

So I kept finding ways to escape. I kept running out of energy in search of something I would not even dare to catch.

It sounds a bit crazy. And yet it makes complete sense when I think about it, when I take a glimpse at what I grew up with…

The idea that life and struggle come together. So if I am at peace, I may die. And I don’t want to die. So I stay in darkness, I stay in this place where I need to fight and fight back to stay alive. Every battle is a blessing, a chance given to me to live. One more day.

I don’t want to build any more tunnels, I wish to walk a new road…

The memory of you

I don’t know why you poped up into my mind this morning. Your memory.

I remember, will always, where I was when the phone rang, how I felt.  I somewhere knew what was about to be said. Something written since the day you entered my life. It could not last. Life like this. Life in a place of suffering. Pain, inside your head, in your body. Your fainted smile as the years went by.

Sometimes a glimpse of hope. Sometimes a chance, maybe. But every time it went as it came. And we remained there, on the threshold of a new dawn, the heart lost in a future that we could only imagine, that would never be yours to walk towards.

The end. I was prepared and yet, I lost balance. I felt relieved for you. I felt pain rushing into my blood and anger filling the space with emptiness.

You were so young. I was so full of dreams, thinking I could overcome every difficulty, I could break the silence they put between us. Your parents thought I was judging them. They felt guilty enough for not being able to look after you the way others thought they ought to.

They were wrong. I was on their side. I was your godmother, not a complete stranger with straight ideas on what it takes and what it means of rasing a disabled child.

You were always an angel anyway. To me. When death took you away, you just get home. You are somewhere between the stars. In my heart for ever. A part of my life. A bright one despite the end, despite all that went wrong between the day I hold you tight in that church and the day the phone rang to tell me you passed away. We did not say goodbye.

Writing Prompt #4

We did not know what love was
We thought it was becoming one another
Or losing our identity
We thought it was being there
Without giving
Without listening
We thought it was losing our voice
So we could create a brand new reality

We did not know so we tried
We fought battles so we could stop the tide
From taking us afar with no chance of coming back

We did not know but we played the game
Thinking that feelings would keep us safe
And sane

We kept putting love
Into brackets
Trying to define it
Without the correct lens

Till
We became two strangers

Walking into darkness
Tears falling on deserted gardens
Where flowers could not bloom

We did not know what love was
We broke each other’s hearts
Till there was nothing left
But empty fields
With holes where we could hide
Thinking it would end the madness
That kept us in a delusive togetherness

This is a text written as part of Writing Prompt proposed by Mona

In Memory

@ Marie Kléber / American Cemetery

Many buried
In a faraway land
Counting the stars
Inside the broken bones
Of their forgotten dreams

White stones
Green trees
Overlooking Paris

An ocean between
Too many lives
Families pulled apart
Memories fading

In our hearts
Images of men
Giving their lives
To set us free

It’s not love

They say “it’s love”
But it’s not

Love is not
About making people
Feel like they count for nothing

Love is not
About making people
Feel guilty all the time

Love is not
About making people
Think they are monsters in disguise

Love is not
About causing people pain

Love is not
About making people
Suffer and cry

Some mums don’t love
They manage
They manipulate
They kill slowly
The ones they ought to love the most

They say
“You’re my child but I can’t stand you”

So stop thinking “it’s love”
It’s not
It’s possession
It’s having someone
They can destroy at will
Slowly…
Without people noticing it

Cause they’re mums
And mums don’t hate
They love

You & Me – The chaos & The grace – Darkness and Love again…

You were at the beginning of all time.

I used to pray and laugh and feel blessed. I used to talk to you. Day and night. I used to find solace when I turned my face towards you and you would smile back.

And then I lose track…

I thought you could be contained. In a religion. In a group. I looked for you in every place, every space. What happened? I don’t know. I started listening to other voices. It was the beginning of a search that took me to the edge. Deep darkness.

It felt like everything I knew was gone.

It felt like you were gone.

I read and prayed. I was lost. I lied to myself so many times. I thought I could catch you. In a place. In a book. Nonsense.

I tried and tried. I got tired, took roads which were not for me to walk. I tried to fit in. Fit in a mess that wasn’t mine. Fit in thoughts that I’d not agree with.

I cried.

I called for you. I shouted at you. Why? Why? Why?

Nightmares would last and you were nowhere to be found.

And then, one day, I decided to let go. I could not walk anymore. I could not breathe anymore. I started to remember the girl I was once.

And you were there. You never left. You just waited for me to be ready to see you again.

You were in the silence of my heart. And the fragrance of my soul.

Don’t close your eyes

Copyright Marie Kléber

It’s hard not to. Not to remember this night. Hard to see the number 13 on the screen and feel nothing. It’s hard to forget. Hard to behave like none of this happened.

We can try. Some are good at it. Some are good at closing their eyes. Some don’t want to remember. Cause it’s too tough. Cause it’s too soon maybe. Cause they don’t see why this would make a difference.

I don’t want to close my eyes. I don’t want to forget. Even if it makes me shiver. Even if it’s far from what I believe and pray for. Even if I don’t understand and if I’d rather see love than blood on the day screens.

I can say it does not matter. I was not one of them. I was out of the mess of this terrible night. I’d lie. I was there, crying, feeling the pain of those who died, of those who survived. I was there, knowing our world would never be the same again, letting go of layers of fears, trying to find solace in kid’s innocent smiles.

When darkness threatens the foundations of our lives, we can’t keep going like nothing is real. We ought to walk, confident, holding to hope like a second skin, towards the light.

Fly me to the moon

Oh this song!

It’s not about Sinatra. I love his voice. I love the song.

It’s about a memory. Yes. A bittersweet one.

The day is a sweet memory. The days after are pretty bad ones. The days after are messing up with the image of:

Me, wearing a wedding gown and him, holding my hand against his chest, telling me how much he is happy, how beautiful I am.

The image made others jealous. Of the way I looked at him and the way he looked at me. Bullshit.

He made the promise to fly me to the moon. Who could resist this? I should have followed him. Sinatra obviously!