The Death Of A Living Corpse

Sharp, twisted, gnarled fingers pointing up from their grave like skeletons

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buried alive. They point from empty sockets glaringly without eye balls, clang and make a hollow. rattling noise. As if they were not here in the cemetery but above from the crumbling yellow ceiling.

They want to attack me, anything of me, worming their way into my brain and every patch of skin. This is how you make me feel, you get to me like no one else. You always had that capacity you just covered it up with charm. But not from me, fire ants slip under my skin, itching, burning, scattering.

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The throngs of white rodents biting wire, wood, any material to get free, gnawing every which way to go even deeper under the once soft layers of my skin.

All of a sudden you have turned on me, licking your lips. I am the one who is hateful, crazy, contradictory? You are telling ME that? My fingers and toes are burning with fire, a fire that has gotten out of hand. It has spread to every limb, every DNA molecule.

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I see from afar my hair is in red-orange flames. No, I didn’t put myself on fire playing with matches, this is arson; a talent you have always had without a shadow of a doubt. You play with fire often, I used to blow out the evidence for you but not anymore.Never again.

I am no longer the one who will protect you when you are lit up like a Christmas tree,

lights wrapped around your head. At those times you were so kind to me, warm, streaking through the streets, waiting for your get-away car. But, only then.

I will not help you anymore,  I took care of you all my life, I had no teenage years, went straight from childhood to adulthood without even a whisper of gratitude, just attitude.

Leave me alone now. Don’t talk to me in your premeditated voice that has struck other people  before. Of course I am not innocent either, but mine is not planned like yours, wrong yes, but not premeditated. You are a poisonous snake that has struck again; one of your dear friends spent years in therapy because of you. I was loyal to you, defended you.You tossed her out of your life like she was the rotting garbage in the smelly city streets that had not just collected after a long brutal summer weekend.

You don’t think about anyone’s feelings, you blurt things out because the only feelings that matter to you are your own. Let others clean up your messes.You have no filter, no filter, no filter.

I will be polite, in front of others but I will not allow you to talk like that to me again. .You have gone too far. For years I have wanted to get you out of my life, why live with such abuse and negativity and drama? But, you, persevered and I let you. Stupid me, I wanted peace.

You may be charming to others, outsiders. but you are not loveable. You have no interest in old friends? What are you hiding? People have asked me what was behind that and I gave no explanation but it is odd. Sectioning off people like little girls with their sweet smiling sections of hair.

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This fire cannot be put out, you went too far. I will hurt nobody on purpose but again, that was on your agenda, not mine. I don’t care why, I care that I no longer stay in this imitation of a relationship with you.

Of course, I can play the game too, but not for you. Never for you. For the only person that matters.  I gave and gave to you and what did I get back? Nothing, nothing that wasn’t engineered for you. You were never my friend, but I never expected that. Friendships share trust.

I have nothing else to give you, you have built yourself a trap, it’s only time that will keep you from drowning in it. I will no longer rescue you from it.  It’s only a matter of time, I’m the keeper of secrets. I won’t say a single word.

Singing background vocals, every single time? But, then again, I expected nothing more. You were always mean-spirited, a dark shadow, why would I ever think you would be fair?

 

Free Write Friday: Kellie Elmore

Tell me about a beautiful person you know…

She is  a wisp of a woman, small, slender, I would like to be able to cover her with layers of warm blankets, one at a time, like a really special birthday cake. In her case, the rich, cocoa brown chocolate frosting, the color of very fertile soil, that will grow anything with abandon… especially ash trees… that sink their roots deep into Mother Earth to pull up strength and nourishment from below, and raise their branches high to the sky to soak in Light of the sun, moon, and stars… the sweet frosting would gently hug her and rock her to sleep. In my dream, she would be able to eat everything she wants to eat and she would be able to gain some much-needed weight. Right now she needs to gain a lot of weight, weight falls off her tiny bird bones and she is weak. She would sleep soundly all curled up in a sugar rose, like one of those wonderful Anne Gedddes photographs that I used to have hanging on my wall on a calendar. Newborn babies in sculptures. Asleep. Blissfully asleep. My friend has been physically sick for a long time, just like many of us with chronic pain disorders and the like.

I’m talking to you about my friend, Ash, a woman who to me is the essence of angels.  She is warm and open and shy all at the same time. She tries to be strong for other people but once in a great while she will show me her vulnerability. I can read her because, though not biologically, she is my sister. She is a spiritual sister to a few people and none of us are jealous of each other because in this spiritual plain, jealously doesn’t exist. Our other sister is Michelle, at one point we became a family of our own and I have yet to meet either one but that doesn’t seem urgent or even necessary. Ash seems to be the oldest of the sisters, though chronologically, I am. Her wisdom flows, teaches, keeps us grounded.

My friend has been through difficult times, I worry about her health, her adrenal glands, very weak body, the way her energy sounds over the phone she sounds wound-up and anxious and yes, scared. To me she is usually Mother Earth, Goddess of All Things Natural, all things Golden, an Angel on Earth but tonight I was strong for her; she needed ME tonight. No one is safe from a disturbing past, although I used to think that everyone had a clear, easy, simple path to adulthood. I was wrong. If you look behind the curtains you find out that every person has their own story. Sometimes they want their story to be a secret, sometimes they pretend not to understand the question. Every child has a story as do their parents.

Ash, had a rough childhood, she has Aspbergers which I never would have known had she not told me and a hard time growing up. Ash is a mountain girl, one with animals, I expect she relates more with animals than with people and the animals know that. They love her as their own. She has two daughters with two very different personalities, I know one better than the other, but the one I do know is loving, caring and has a lot of responsibility on her shoulders, I have been there too.

I had too much responsibility on my shoulders too when I was young so I can relate to “the little one” with ease and admiration. And with a word of caution, “you have your own life too, sweet one, please make sure to remember that” I am only a phone call away from both of you.

My friend is now bugging me to take dairy and wheat out of my diet, I try not to laugh out loud but she knows me too well. She wears me down, the most I will give her is “I promise to try” but it is a weak promise though I won’t let her down.

I will not let her down, my sister, my friend. I hope she knows that applies to my “niece” too.

My friend is going through another difficult time now, health-wise, I will always support her, I do what I can, living far away, but this gentle soul could use a break, please join me in putting a peaceful, spirit prayer to help her through the tough days ahead.

* PHOTO CREDIT SONGEDELUXE Spiritual (Photo credit: songedeluxe)

photo credit: songdeluxe

“Don’t Toby Me”

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In our house, we have our own kind of language. Our children, we always said, needed to take English As A Second Language when they were younger. Now? It’s a lost cause. My husband and I use a combination of words and phrases we learned from both Viennese and German parents, some real and mostly made up. My husband and I have been married for twenty-two years, we are also guilty of making up many expressions that some might consider “creative.”

I kid you not, my brother-in-law (on my husband’s side) actually published a little dictionary, for amusement, for one Thanksgiving dinner  many years ago. It was the hit of the night. People (mostly my sister) wrote to him begging him to do another edition or to add a phrase or correct one that was there. That dictionary with photos of all of us when our children were tiny is still talked about today. It was so special that there never can be a second edition, that’s how much we love it.

A bit of many different languages are included. Our poor kids used to ask us if a certain word was real or not. There’s really no way of telling but when in doubt, it’s probably not real. However, there is one expression that is famous throughout the family and has extended to close friends, acquaintances and most probably strangers. It started way back in the eighties when my then best friend and I went to dinner at an Italian restaurant in Boston. After finishing our meals, we looked forward, as always, to the main reason we went out to dinner: dessert. I remember that they had a special dessert that was called Cappuchino pie, a mixture of chocolate and coffee, that my old friend loved.  I ordered something else, I believe it was a chocolate layer cake with whipped cream, or as we used to say “real” whipped cream.

Wanting to take a break after dinner since I was getting full, I went to the bathroom AFTER our dessert came but BEFORE I took a bite. When I came back, not two minutes later, there was a BITE of MY chocolate cake missing. That’s right, you heard me. She had tasted my dessert BEFORE I tasted it and that, to me, was inexcusable. I was looking forward to that first bite, yet she ate it while I was in the bathroom. She didn’t ask permission (would so not be granted) she just ate it. Thus, her name being Toby, the expression was born. It lives on to this day and it will always be alive…..

It’s only been about thirty-one years, yet we continue to use and enjoy this expression.  My niece, many years ago, was with a friend of hers and her friend attempted to try something that my niece ordered but hadn’t tasted yet. My niece proclaimed in a loud voice “Don’t Toby Me!” She then explained what that meant to her friend and the phrase continues to be used and enjoyed in various settings by people probably unbeknownst to us.

The friendship didn’t last but NOT for that reason.  Sometimes, many years after an old friendship is over you can still appreciate a tiny detail, a golden nugget of a phrase, way past the expiration date of the friendship. Watch your dining companion closely. If he/she attempts to steal something off your plate BEFORE you have tried it, stop them.  Keep an eye on their fork  and be prepared. If they do it once, they will never do it again and yes, they will learn. The miracle continues. You’re welcome.

p.s. Jerry Seinfeld could have done a whole show on this. Just sayin…..