Bottle Dance - July 16th, 2006 at 07:50 AM
Sadly, some of us know this story!But, we have the power to change patterns..
The Bottle Dance (Excerpt)
I remember watching my mothers face as moods magnified from each tip of the glass. Frozen with feared anticipation. Numb from rages and ongoing episodes. Highest of highs and lowest of lows. Have been passed on in family tradition.
I try to remain expressionless not to draw attention, an early lesson learned.
The lights are dim and the shades are drawn to keep in all the secrets.
Circumstances robbed the innocence of youth. Leaving my imagination my favorite escape.
An imaginary family I created lived in the closets of my mind. I took them out when needed. At times I think I believed they were real. Maybe they were? They made me feel apart of something without a price or penality. They kissed me goodnight and whispered sweet dreams kiddo. They never left me alone.
A deep hollowness was carved out of the center of who I am. I have never fully filled that emptiness and not sure I ever will. I"m tired from running, running away, running into and running toward.
I have let go, yet it will not let go of me. Driving me to an unreachable perfection, fighting the constant urge to withdraw inward. Learning to master the game has given me many faces. I don"t particularly like them all. But we tend to mask what we do not want to show or be seen.
Many tears fell on a little face until they could fall no more.
Replaced with a strong suit of protected armor not easily removed or affected. I sit in awe of the soul consuming infinite love I have for my own son. And realize I have given him the love I have always wanted. And that alone mends me.
I never really felt safe. God, I hope he feels safe.
I have moved myself outside of this cycle. Although it has ingrained itself upon whom I am.
I often felt we looked around each other. Never really looking at each other. Anger and guilt seemed to consume the majority of air we shared.
I felt as if the background of my life played a disease-induced melody. As I stood like a wallflower and watched her give an ongoing performance of the bottle dance.
Copyright © 2001 by AJB (excerpt) The Bottle Dance
The Bottle Dance (Excerpt)
I remember watching my mothers face as moods magnified from each tip of the glass. Frozen with feared anticipation. Numb from rages and ongoing episodes. Highest of highs and lowest of lows. Have been passed on in family tradition.
I try to remain expressionless not to draw attention, an early lesson learned.
The lights are dim and the shades are drawn to keep in all the secrets.
Circumstances robbed the innocence of youth. Leaving my imagination my favorite escape.
An imaginary family I created lived in the closets of my mind. I took them out when needed. At times I think I believed they were real. Maybe they were? They made me feel apart of something without a price or penality. They kissed me goodnight and whispered sweet dreams kiddo. They never left me alone.
A deep hollowness was carved out of the center of who I am. I have never fully filled that emptiness and not sure I ever will. I"m tired from running, running away, running into and running toward.
I have let go, yet it will not let go of me. Driving me to an unreachable perfection, fighting the constant urge to withdraw inward. Learning to master the game has given me many faces. I don"t particularly like them all. But we tend to mask what we do not want to show or be seen.
Many tears fell on a little face until they could fall no more.
Replaced with a strong suit of protected armor not easily removed or affected. I sit in awe of the soul consuming infinite love I have for my own son. And realize I have given him the love I have always wanted. And that alone mends me.
I never really felt safe. God, I hope he feels safe.
I have moved myself outside of this cycle. Although it has ingrained itself upon whom I am.
I often felt we looked around each other. Never really looking at each other. Anger and guilt seemed to consume the majority of air we shared.
I felt as if the background of my life played a disease-induced melody. As I stood like a wallflower and watched her give an ongoing performance of the bottle dance.
Copyright © 2001 by AJB (excerpt) The Bottle Dance