The Demon Mind

For as long as I can remember I used to sit in front of he mirror and pick myself apart. The crowsfeet at the corners of my eyes used to be wear I would fixate the most. I could handle almost anything but wrinkles to me were the first sign that my looks were fading. Not that I was much to look at anyways but where did these deep creases come from on my forehead? All I hear is what the rest of the World feels about themselves. Why should I feel ashamed that what I possessed in my youth has begun to fade? Life is just a beautiful whisper and if you get to distracted you won’t be able to hear the message if you are too preoccupied with al the things you can not change anyways.

Motherhood has taught me that some days you don’t get dressed till noon. Life just gets in the way. Gravity has claimed back some of my body parts and I am surprised at how little it bothers. There are days though when it becomes more than a mild irritant as you realize just how low they can go and how without surgery there is no bringing them back to their former glory. There are days when I can life at the very real possibility that one day they may touch my knees but until then I am just thankful for the lack of bend in my knees making it even less of a reality.

I like to say that I remember my first grey hair but the reality of such a fine piece of hair that was once such a huge significant event in my life has now been dyed over with some blue and a hint of green. My love for bright colours didn’t come into play to hide my greys. Truth be told there is no way of hiding those persistent little tufts of white. If you look close enough you can see just how bright the white strands appear in my hair like a piece of tinsel intertwined with each. My hair colour of choice came to me long before the pains of the world became known. Anytime you have to look into the eyes of someone you love and you can feel the devastation that has rocked them to their core Your own minimalistic view of yourself becomes obsolete. In a world that is growing more content in bringing us to our knees I will look the for the simplistic ways we need to recover and to heal.

Yesterday before I stepped into the shower I glanced upon my naked body. I know that in the eyes of some I should feel ashamed of myself. I can see the bulge from too many traditional dishes that I have been cooking lately. I don’t even want to pretend that I am going to watch what I eat and count calories. I did that once. I had a flat stomach once and still found no love. In fact I can still hear the laughs slapping me in the face from the second row while I was up on stage. There she is. The girl that ran too much at the gym. Look at how sick she looks. I wish I had the courage to tell you then just how sick I was. My grandmother just died, my boyfriend just went back to jail, my high school friend was now in a comma where just hours before he was checking in on me. I was struggling way more than just the hours you saw on the treadmill. I though if I ran fast enough that I could catch them, if for anything just for one more hug. Thank you though. I can still hear your whispers though, oh what a lifetime ago.

There are so many things about my outward appearance that I know I should hate. Society wants me to believe in those insecurities. They feed on my failures. Now as I am more than likely half way through my life I am able to see things differently. I do cry, A LOT. It almost feels like I cry for those that are unable to. My years and wisdom love to dance and envelope me in arms that will never let me go. I search for answers that are too hard for the questions to even be asked but I know that in truth the answers we seek need to be somewhere. How is it that things just like people can vanish without a trace. Why would we do something like this that our minds will never be able to bend to understand. Why do we have this great experience that is life only to have this one tiny tremor define who it is we are to be for the rest of all time?

I don’t want to feel anything but love for the creature staring back at me. In all of her great splendor and even faults. My failure in self wasn’t protecting her in time to coincide with events that have hurt her. There were days when she didn’t even know how to move forward never mind move at all. There was a time when life made sense but now it is hard to see anything else than the devious plot that is being unfolded in front of us. Eventually my soul will have the answers to the questions I seek but it won’t stop the tears. Why are some destined to live these lives whose only purpose it seems was to leave a deep scar where our heart used to be. Moving forward without those that we loved seems like the greatest sin of all. If I wait here for them and promise to find you when they return will you still be mad? Will you ever see or feel the reasons why I had to stay?

Of course my looks have changed over the years to reflect my growing wisdom and compassionate heart. Age redefines everything as we come to terms and accept the process for what is. Of course there are moments where we want to push the boundary between what is real and what we desire to be so. If I just stop the air from making me breathe can I glimpse to the other side before letting go? I don’t want to let go from here yet because that is the only truth that I know. Once you say goodbye to the present you become lost in a certain uncertainty that I know for sure. What becomes of the land of the living when we fail to recognize the pain that resides within? Why do bad things happen to good people? Where is the logic and faith in any of that. When life as we know it fails to exist who do we become? where do we go? how do we begin to move forward when the past is all that we know. It is safe there. In amongst the shadows I can still make out the silhouette of souls lost and forgotten, the ones who don’t want to let go. What becomes of the living when we all wake up dead, void of any human emotion except for the vile words of what has already been said. With each passing day I keep one foot in the grave and my head up in the clouds. One to keep me grounded in my dreams and the other to remind me of just how beautiful life can be. The only demon mind that I should fear is that of my own. Only she has been made of my weakness and only her version of me can stop me from being able to shine. One a living nightmare the other lost in a dream. Both are versions of me and both forever intertwined.

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