Tamara Willems

walking through walls…

Once again I find myself reading a memoir where alcohol
strikes at its
core

I wonder if at some point in our childhood,
or just when..  as young tender hearts
we start to compensate for the pain
of our parents
and just how it is we come to cower, protect, shield
our young selves from
all
and then, in how many ways it continues
to show

a time when one found themselves clinging in the cold
to a sister
and the irrational shame of a lost library book
afraid to be out, equally afraid to
go
back
in

a young child , fresh from the hairdresser
expected as part of the wedding
yet sat in a car waiting outside a hotel
for far too long, scared… 
has peed
herself

or many years later
sat on a doorstep as a young teen
long after the family inside had gone to bed
waiting for a ride home
wondering
when or even
if

thoughts of going around, going without
or just
getting on
how things can be ruined, revealed
revisited

how the cells in ones body
react
are they hardened somehow in
brittle bitterness
closed off, shut down
are they squished just a little
remain sullen, guarded

or do they stay raw
open,
absorbing of other’s pain
empathetic

do you hit a spot when a visit home
with your own new child
reeks of old familiar tunes
anger and irritation, raised voices ‘til all hours
where you
sort of outer body yourself
recognize that this…
this is not for you
now, you have a home
make a vow that now would be the right time
to remove yourself from
succession
of
such

barriers go up

a conscious choice which has the only hope
of
raising ones
wings

there are things so much a part of you
that you dare not tell
yet indeed you know it so well
in the words
of another, the sound, the smell
the
shadow

wonder what it would be to write it all down
as a way to set it
free
separating love and life from decay
or possibly it just becomes
one and
the
same

still, you believe

nothing hopeless
in a healing ♥

Leave a Comment