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Cracked

Poetry By: moni
Poetry



The internal guilt of forgetting friends creates remorse in this abstract narrative poem


Submitted:Jul 29, 2009    Reads: 74    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


It took for ever, but I did it,
Or, rather, we did it.
Away, forever, and never shall we return.
Oh, what joy has come to us,
What blessings we have been blown.
Oh, amazing
Amazing,
Amazing.
And yet, I feel almost guilty.
Guilty for leaving them all behind.
Guilty for going, and never turning around for a seconds look.
Guilty for missing them so much.
Guilty for not even caring that I had hurt so many.
Hurt the ones I held closest.
I shoved them away and ran as fast and as far as I could.
But what else was I supposed to do?
Go back and drag them with me?
Or wait until they could tag along?
No, it was unreasonable to think like this.
Unreasonable for wanting them to follow.
And yet, I still found a way to feel so,
So alone.
And scared,
For I knew not what awaited me.
The sweet, tickling fancies of a hundred dreams had lured me on.
I was hypnotized by the flowery smell of what I'd only prayed for.
It dangled so close in front of me,
Itching my nose,
But being pulled on so profusely as if it would never stop,
I wouldn't be able to inhale the engaging aroma.
I just kept chasing after it,
Until I was short of breath,
And could barely see the point of keeping up my strength,
Just to pull after something I knew I would never reach.
So I paused, but just for a moment.
Until someone swept up beside me and patted me on the back and said-
You're almost there; keep going, just a little longer.
So I picked up my pace,
Quickened my step, and reached out,
My finger tips brushing against its soft, silky edge,
And I lunged at it,
Catching it in my palm.
Catching the sweet smell,
And cherishing the perfect perfume in my senses.
Oh, joy is me.
Never stop running.
Never stop hoping.
But I can't help feel the lurking feeling
In my uneasy heart.
As fast as I chased,
As hard as I ran,
For every step I took towards my goal,
I cracked the lives of many under my foot.
Some, less than others,
Only a scratch, or a chip.
Some, I broke away,
Sending them ricocheting off into the distance.
Or, I shattered them under my hard, heave step,
Leaving no one to put them together.
They will forever be changed.
Different.
Irreplaceable.
Yes, irreplaceable to me,
To themselves,
To their friends and family.
Never the same,
Never whole,
Never OK.
And I cry.
Just a tear.
A heartfelt tear.
Oh, what else could I do?
Turn around, and ignore I had ever reached what I was leaning towards?
Leaning my whole time of existence in this place.
I had escaped.
I had escaped.
Me, alone,
And my family I would never desert.
We got out okay,
And happy in the process.
But I left so many.
They lay there,
Still to this day,
They lay there.
Stuck in the tar pits so few can escape from.
I had escaped from.
Yes, escaped.
I don't know how we did it.
No idea in my head.
But we managed.
And we rejoiced,
Knowing only that we were gone,
And not how we had left.
We had simply kept walking until there was no where else to walk to.
No where else in front of us but home.
Home.
Home since I was born.
Never had it stopped being home.
Never had it been removed from our lives.
And it lay there in front of us,
Clean, and shiny, and warm.
Just the way we had left it.
Exactly so.
As though someone had dug in my memories,
And pulled it out,
And set it before us to watch,
And I grinned,
Despite the awkward sensation that loomed in my gut.
I grinned,
And because of that grin,
I never saw what lay just opposite my cheek.
A hard, angry, painful sort of gloom.
Lurking just outside my range of vision.
Just outside my heart.
And, although I was blinded by joy,
I could see that all would not be well.
So I hid.
I hid for years behind my fake façade,
Hoping the cloud would evaporate,
But it did not.
And I have been stuck under it for all this time.
And the picture-perfect image in my mind was blocked
By an eyesore of a tragic event.
I must fix it,
I must go back and fix it.
Never have I known this more.
But I don't want to go back
Just to help those I demolished,
I want to go back to have the storm above my head pass.
And for that, I am punished.
But I go back,
And this time I am sure to leave an easy path for myself to follow home.
But I go, and I look.
And I can't find the pieces.
Anywhere.
I look and I look, and they seem to have gone.
Yes, but where?
They are gone.
So, I must be OK, right?
I am free to go, and continue on with my life.
A moment's peace.
I feel I have done my job,
I have fixed something.
But I get lost on the way out.
I become entangled in the tar that held me for so long.
Entangled, and it takes all my energy to get free.
But I am free,
Free once again.
So I return home,
But that cloud still looms above me,
And I know all is not well.
I must continue my search,
I must help those I hurt,
I must heal them.
Days and days,
Months and months,
I search, and find nothing.
Not a trace of what I want.
But I search from the comfort of my own home,
Which says something…
And then,
One day,
By chance,
I stumble upon a small, shiny object in the sand
I bend down to pick it up.
And instead of it being something I am used to,
Like a simple shell,
Or a lost charm,
I realize it is something more valuable,
Much more valuable.
It is a small diamond,
One from a life I shattered.
I had kicked it so hard, it landed right here in from of me,
Three thousand miles from where it had started.
And because of me, it is out of place.
And I know my duty.
I know what I must do to free myself from the constant storm.
So I venture out,
For the last time
To these tar pits,
To put this one life back together.
I hold the diamond in my pocket,
But very close to my heart.
I arrive, and I search for the life I am here to fix.
But I can't seem to find the other pieces.
I am puzzled,
How can this be?
Here I hold proof that this life is destroyed,
And yet I cannot find the remains of it.
So, I ask around,
And they look at me odd.
As if I am stupid,
But maybe I am.
For when I finally find the rest of the peaces,
I gasp inside.
I cry inside.
I hate inside.
But I suppose I just hated myself.
Because when I find the life I shattered,
I realize that it isn't shattered at all.
Despite what I though,
And all my guilt,
And my sorrow for what I had done,
I hated myself,
Because I had lived for years regretting my inhumanity,
And I realized that I am not a barbarian at all.
No, she found her own pieces,
And put herself back together,
And didn't need me for anything.
A simple flake missing from her shoulder.
So insignificant,
She didn't even notice.
And she sees me, and barely even recognizes me.
I had built myself up so high,
Thought so much of myself,
Like I was the only one who could save these people.
Like I was the only one who destroyed them.
Like they were waiting for me,
To rescue them from their miserable lives,
But I know now,
I had destroyed myself.
And I needed them to come and put me back together,
To save me from my miserable life with out them.
And, in a way, they have saved me.
They had set me free from the pain, and guilt, and chains.
They had been the sunshine that burned up the storm.
They had been the help,
The push,
The ones who picked up my pieces.
Because, with all the other shattering glass,
I hadn't noticed myself crack.




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