briseadh / breaking

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my mother is gone. no longer
can i call her on the phone, hear the smile
in her voice. i sit in the dark 
thousands of years away from that moment 
and picture home. watching the waves & the
wild of the sea quietens me, in my mind
something stills, just for a moment 
the anxiety stops. the thoughts never stop. 
my mind is never silent, turning over the strangest things, thoughts flip. 

glass is really a liquid. i used to stare at
windows in between sentence & fixate, on this. 
glass is molecules. it exists in the space between water, and structured reality. it is amorphous, like our bodies. it will warp, but can bend more than us 
before it breaks. eventually everything shatters.

once i broke down. i was absent, missing 
vocal sound. i have thought & thought 
about where i went that year. i have no answer.

walls are still, but they hear & see 
everything we do. i drop food on the floor, 
see particles in my mind decomposing. breaking down, pulling away, radiating outwards towards the point of absorption. rotting skin, ants, worms, writhing maggots move all around. i feel them crawl 
spreading over me. 

i can’t stand to be. here, anymore. 
my brain is malfunctioning. decomposing 
from the second we are born, we are withering. dying from the inside 
rotting out, like my mother. 
i close my eyes. she speaks to me. she is gone. she is gone. she is gone. the reality of her absent form repeats,
she sits beside me.

©kbain2018.

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Neo-làthaireach / Absence

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Absence
Nothingness
unbeing…
darkeness
Unseen
 
Spiralling down
undone
untowards anything
Dis-connection from
Undoing…
Unexisting
un self past born
 
Wrenching
past the twisted pain
of unliving never more
to unbe
Un holding on….
 
 
©Karen Bain 2016.All Rights Reserved.