Tag Archives: suppression

STILL RUNNING

So many years
Lifetimes it seems
So much muddy water
Under those burnt
Forgotten bridges

Modus operandi
Fly in like the wind
Come and go
Completely unknown

This time different
Everything shifted
Perspective
Perception
Observing
With intent

Everywhere I go
Round every corner
No longer hidden
Painful haunting ghosts

Feeling a stranger
In a place too well known
Then appearing from nowhere
Making their presence known

The doe and the stag
Red tail hawk soaring
Within that magic hour
As if welcoming me home

But even though I’m reminded
Of people here that love me
This is far from my world
No longer my home

In a few short days
Will ride the wind again
Bask in southern sunshine
Search for sanctity resumes

©2011 Jill Terry

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QUOTE OF THE DAY

“There is much pain that is quite noiseless; and vibrations that make human agonies are often a mere whisper in the roar of hurrying existence. There are glances of hatred that stab and raise no cry of murder; robberies that leave man or woman for ever beggared of peace and joy, yet kept secret by the sufferer; committed to no sound except that of low moans in the night, seen in no writing except that made on the face by the slow months of suppressed anguish and early morning tears. Many an inherited sorrow that has marred a life has been breathed into no human ear.”

~ George Eliot


CATHARSIS

She had a knack for burying things; in the secret recess of her mind. She didn’t wait for the wounds to fester, didn’t want to see the scab that was sure to leave an ugly scar, even though she knew it would eventually fade with time. She didn’t want to feel the itch as it slowly began to heal, forcing her to acknowledge each time she scratched. She didn’t want to be reminded at all, so she buried them deep, where she thought no one could ever find them. Hiding them she believed, from even herself.

Then along her path came a healer, having already glimpsed into her soul; for once they had stood toe-to-toe, in that long narrow hall leading to nowhere. He had a way of touching her, opening every wound, introducing her to catharsis, a word she soon came to loathe. Not because the outcome was undesirable in any way, but because the pain, which at times could be excruciating, she once again was forced to face; in reaching that point of purification, through unfettered emotional release. With the one who knows, maybe always knew and willingly absorbed as much pain as he could, just so she no longer suffered alone.

©2010 by Jill Terry


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