We Once Knew Purity

Like that elegant lily
white and tender — soul
bared in vulnerability.

We once were tender
white-skinned fragile,
our tiny souls groping for
and gravitating toward
all that was fresh and beautiful,
unaware of dark clouds
drifting toward us, storms
and deep-black-rain-caused
mud. Streaking, splotching —
baby-tender opaque skin —
our souls trapped in a
place of harsh-red silence
covered in deep-dark pain.

We once knew purity
and a place before sex,
lust, violence, rape. That old
white candle flickering
inside opaque souls, we
held the light tighter
with each day passing,
terrified always of a time
when lights were snuffed out.

Like that elegant lily
white and tender —
denied water under
a harsh orange heat.
The slow-burning death —
crinkled-black-brown
burning, until an almost
desiccated-withered brown flower falls,
from yellowed-drought-stem to ground.
We once were tender
white-skinned fragile
child-bodies. Bloodied
bruised to brown-purple,
rag-mouthed crusty blood
spilling across dollar store
dirty-worn sheets.

We once were like
that elegant lily,
white and tender souls,
and we sang, laughed,
cried, survived
that slow-burning death,
bled-out innocence marking
sweated-on, dirt-covered
dollar store sheets
in a virgin-red smear.

 

~July 2012

 

Artwork: Gladis110 at Photobucket can be seen here.

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Clinical Despair: Science, Psychotherapy and Spirituality in the Treatment of Depression | Psychology Today

This is an interesting and insightful article about depression at Psychology Today: Clinical Despair: Science, Psychotherapy and Spirituality in the Treatment of Depression | Psychology Today.

funeral song

2001 Myrtle Beach, SC

ego-separation from the letting-go

is the last phase of loss.

solemn-silence is declared.

it will not lift, can not lift

until vision clarifies.

imagine the world as a new

place created and transformed by

the without, adjusted perception

looks for meaning

submerged in the pain.

seeks solace from a fragmented spirit

that clings to us in absence.

each lost thing claims

a part of our souls

perfection

unravels the lies we hide

inside ourselves

leaving us

bare and jaggedly grieved.

we becomes

the creation of losses

evolves into shards of recovery.

Stimulated by grieving

we acknowledge the mirrors

reflection of our souls love

for others.

©2001, Marissa Mullins