Monday, December 31, 2007

The hardest part


He stared at their faces and looked at them one by one. The pain, no one will be able to know. No one. His hands hurt. His head. His heart. Trampled upon, it felt like. Thud Crash. Pieces. He walked past them as he walked out to that place. This is it guys, do you see, do you understand. This is it. Father take this cup from me.......actually, let your will be done. I saw his tears. Thud Crash pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

She stared at her son on the cross....thud...crash....
pieces. Broken glass on the floor. Mary, dear Mary, let go, let go.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl. Thud Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

She looked up. Her chest felt a little sour, a little bitter, and very much like something was tugging on it so hard. Heavy, and it ached. The little four year old, her heart, her heart. It ached. It was her favourite doll! And she was on the plane now. Too late. She should not have put it down at all. She should not have taken it out of mum's bag.She wanted to scream at mum for letting her take it out. Mum always puts things back, why hasn't she this time? I saw the tears well up in her sweet little eyes. Let go dear Sarah, let go. The little four year old, her heart, her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl. Thud. Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

Just last week, grandma had a fall. She still winces whenever she thought of it. They were out, and grandma had to go to the bathroom, so she did. She slided, slipped and fell. She hit her head, grandma, hit her head. She seemed alright. But then she seemed alright before she got sick too. The little eight year old, her heart, her heart. I saw the tears in her eyes as she ran up to her grandma and stroked her head where it bruised, where it bled. They didn't think she understood. But she did. Grandma fell, and she couldn't help it. It was like, almost like, the moment was gone, and it happened, and the little girl she stood there numbed, helpless wishing she could take grandma back to the time before she fell. She didn't want anything to happen to grandma. She didn't. But it did. Tears stream...Let go dear Sarah, let go. The little eight year old, her heart, her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl. Thud. Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

The little eight year old, her heart, her heart. I saw the tears in her eyes as she looked at her grandma. She loved her grandma to bits. The stories of how she survived during the war, and how she was smuggled and hid. How she escaped. There was this story she told once, of this huge punjabi man outside a club stopping the locals from getting in, because it's an english club. Whites only, whites only. And that time where grandma bought a bag of oranges and opened them one by one just for her. Sarah, sweet sarah, her eyes teared up as she stared at her grandma. Her cousin came up behind her and held her little hand, took her to the front of the room where grandma's picture, was displayed. Look at her here, when she's smiling eh? Sarah, sweet sarah, don't you cry. She sneaked back to the front of the coffin and peered in again. Grandma was gone, forever. Tears stream....Let go dear Sarah, let go. The little eight year old, her heart, her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl. Thud. Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

Her sour heart, aching a little, she could not understand. She held Anna close. The little girl. She remembered the times where little Anna would break into song "dwingle dwingle litwel star, how i wonder wat you arrrr". Tears stream down Sarah's face. Sarah dear Sarah. I saw tears in her eyes as she looked down at dear Anna. She remembered the sweet girl, ever so sweet. The dear wee girl hardly cried. Hardly, such a bundle of joy. The blood soaked through her t-shirt, but she wouldn't budge. Let go dear Sarah, let go. Anna, lost for good. Let go my dear Sarah, let go....The little seventeen year old, her heart, her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl Thud Crash Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

And yet today, she could not understand. The feelings she had always felt, she had known. Familiar. Thud. Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor. He stared blankly at her, as he walked past. He did not love her anymore. Probably never did. He walked past her, trampling upon the broken pieces as she winced and squirmed, half in pain, half in disbelief. Dear Sarah. I saw you cry. Let go dear Sarah, let go.Are you a sad wee girl Sarah? Let go my wee one, let go. The little twenty four year old. her hand. her head. her heart. her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. since she was a little girl...thud, crash...pieces, broken glass on the floor. pieces, broken glass on the floor.

Mary dear Mary, let go, let go. For it is only temporary.....it is only temporary. Mary looked up, but still? Broken pieces on the floor.............

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