Reality

Reality sucks,

I hate it…

But I know it is coming for me.

I am perfectly comfortable

Living in the romanticism in my mind,

The dreams of my heart

And hopes for the future.

But now,

Everything feels like it’s crumbling –

Down, down, down…

Into the depths of despair.

I am scared.

 

I am scared of the realities of heartache.

I am scared of what is to come.

I am scared of starting over.

I am scared to forget…

But even more so to remember.

To remember the feel of his lips,

Of his hands

Gently searching my body

 

I am scared of pain.

The stabbing,

Burning,

Aching agony of the heart,

When it breaks

Reality will come for me,

It will come for my heart.

I am not ready for reality –

 

 

No One

The boys seemed to be kicking a large Bible.  I wanted to join them and play, but momma squeezed my hand and said I couldn’t – she was probably right.  After we started wearing the star of David, people didn’t seem to like us very much.  My friends didn’t want to play with me any more, they called me a rat.  I don’t know why because I look nothing like a rat!  I kind of have a big nose, but dad always tells me boys with bigger noses are the more manly ones.  I must be really manly.

I tripped over a book and momma snapped at me, “Be careful!”.

“Sorry momma!”

She has been so angry lately, I think she doesn’t like our new jobs.  Some men with really nice uniforms asked us to move into a small place that we share with two other families, and now momma and I go to work together everyday in new uniforms.  Work is so hard, and the bosses are always screaming at us.  Sometimes I cry from all the yelling, it makes me feel scared.  I keep working with my head down so momma never sees.

Every day, we walk through town together to get to work. There have been so many books on the streets lately!  I asked momma if I could keep one but apparently those books are no good and that’s why they are being thrown out.  It makes me glad I don’t own any books.

I saw a man holding a rock, he was snarling like a dog!  And he was running towards us!

“Jüdischer Abschaum!”

Momma fell to the ground.

“Momma!”

I bent over to help her up, I tried to lift her body and be strong, but I couldn’t.  She stayed on the ground holding her head, she was lying on her side like my baby sister does.

I looked for the man that threw a rock at her while yelling “Jewish Scum” – why would he do that?  And where did he go?

Momma’s head was bleeding badly.  She touched her head, looked at her fingers covered in blood and then her eyes rolled to the back of her head.  I got scared, she wasn’t moving!

My eyes filled with tears.  I could not cry when momma needed me most!

“Help!  Someone please help!  My momma is hurt!  Her head – it’s, it’s bleeding!”

No one came…

 

 

 

Run

Her hair flows behind her as she runs through the darkness.  Life hits her at every angle, but she continues to get back up.  Her body is covered in bruises, scrapes and scars.  Each mark from a hurtful word, a painful touch, a self hating thought…

She still runs.

Her body is weak, but her mind is strong.  She gets up.  She runs.

What is she running from?

Aren’t we all running?

Running away from our fears, running away from responsible.  But also away from evil, away from threats and unnecessary pain.

I am running with her.

In the darkness I see her hair.  The long, golden tresses glow in the blackness.

Where are we running to?

I see it.

There is light in the distance.  I keep running.

I run for life, I run for joy, I run for love.

I run because of the hurt, because of the heart ache.  Despite the darkness, there is light.

We run for the light.

My body is covered in bruises, scrapes and scars, but it reminds me of where I’ve been.

Now, I’m heading into the light…

Anomaly

Weeks were slow, months were fast. Moments were quick, but memories won’t last.
Time goes on, I grow older. Finding myself, becoming colder.
Every thought is a key to my future, every step closer to who I am.
I walk down the street, eyes follow and taunt.
My style is different, temperament liberal.
Anomaly is my second name.
The capricious are uncertain, but have charisma.
There are no epitomes among the lurid streets, everyone unique to themselves.
The meticulous wall built to avoid scandalous slander stands, we guard our hearts.
Judgement feels like a backhand, freedom is only but a dreamland.
Do I care what they think, how they respond to who I want to be?
Anomaly is my second name.
I walk down the street, eyes follow and wonder.
My walls fall.
I do not conform, I am who I am.
No apologies for what is on my heart.
Every thought is a key to my future, every step closer to personal freedom.
Time goes on, I grow older. Finding myself, becoming bolder.
Weeks were slow, months were fast. Moments were quick, but memories won’t last.

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