I. REBORN ON THE SUTURE OF A BLADE
My world has been stripped down to bones and basics. Essentially, there is nothing left but mere being and the laptop. It has been a relentless litany of plunder and a bedlam of savagery. It has been an endless picking of my bones and then vultures flee. I remain abandoned in an arid and desolate wake and under a deserted sun a fragile presence remains changed and blistered through a firefight. The war against my being has honed my spirit. My soul utters with a wakened heart and now I am someone else. It was never a stranger a mirror, but who I have always must become.
II. THE WRATH OF DELIRIUM
The deliriums that possessed my family has left a travesty of my life. Passing the ache of flesh onto the sinister cadre of warped ministries and more is taken. I once believed that there was nothing else to lose and yet there was always more. From hence, all that remained was give to the culture within my wake. One might have dreamt that there would be nothing left. I am almost surprised that I remain.
III. LEGACY IS MY SLIT THROAT
There is a cruelty that is brutal in its advent and its wake. Despite all of this, I still love my family. I would have never dreamt that such feral hearts beat within their system. They have absolutely shocked my life. I would have never dreamt that I would be cut out of my parent’s last years. Most likely, I will never see them again. Who would have believed that the senility or dementia of my Dad would have led him to instigate such evil against his own son. I would have never dreamt that the core of my sister was so fragile, swept, and pliable. She used to be one of my best friends and all of that turned on a dime. If people truly knew them as I must wonder if I ever did know them. If those that they have known knew them now: their hearts would pause with aghast and the shock of their world would inhibit them as well. Was I bred from monsters that were yet to be born. I would hope to say ‘thee, nay!’
All that I have loved and all that I have ever known has been wrecked and then it is gone. All that I have loved deeply has left me within a wicked turn of consequence and from these things I have been so ravaged and then I become still. All that was precious and deeply held has been stolen, ravaged, and dismissed as utter rubbish. All that was known and familiar, all that was to have been legacy, and now the endless is eternally gone. All that was beauty and lovely around us has been plundered and raped until all being remains a paste not worth scraping. All of these things done unto me and yet I still love my family. All of that cruelty and the monster that my sister has become. She has become a beast that breathes without a beating heart. The frail and vain always seek control and her stance is one of a desolate fear. Despite the turn of her soul, my prayers remain in the hope of absolution. She had never realized that she is a charade whose comfort retains her from the truth. It will be brutal to view her breaking down once our parents have passed away. I would wonder if she would become mad and suicidal. Her crimes would become painfully evident and yet forgiveness remains. Between her and Dad, they have brutalized my brother and I as if we were nothing but trash. My sister has committed horrible crimes and yet none dare to question such things.
IV. MANY THAT BLEED
The other sorrow is how those that have known my parents all of their lives never questioned my Dad’s fallen mind. Surely they must have noticed something that was not right. I believe that they did and yet they lacked the courage to act. Hypocrisy is reserved for the frail. The lack of intimacy and the sense of community has been nothing more than a perpetrated facade. Church and town has been revealed to be a propped mirage reserved quietly for the dying.
Despite all of these things, I still love my family. All of their doom is evident and yet the blind remain flailed by their narcissist urges. All dream is content without substance and have they always been the treading of the dead: empty suits held up by a body that passes through life as if it is a dress rehearsal and nothing more. Pray for my family while they still live. Many things will be too late once they reach the grave. Despite all, I still love them and hope remains...but that is dangerous for me. Are they deserving of such love?
by El-Pooh!
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