.......or is it the poison to swallow. Just and such as it has been forced upon me time and time again? Since boyhood...
...as if through out my day's here walking my Path, sometimes not even knowing what type of Path I was to truly trieing to beleive in. One that I wanted to follow...or live as it was my life moving ahead on...
...and yet, on and on it goes in my skull. The force fed and made to swallow abuses! Whether it be Sexual, Verbal, Pyhsical, Emotionial...
...by the "whom ever's". Yesterday, Yesteryear, it does not matter.
Today's the life...My Life!
Until I had been through the shit and the anti-matter that became bits, pieces and parts to tote along with the luggage...
...and, no honey, it ain't Prada. And what? Y que? As if I would? I have carried this humongous load of fukkk'en anti-matter on my shoulders since I was a child.
And Survived it. So I thought it.
With the all that has been the past few years and then the recent weeks, with the all that was and has been, it appears and seems to me we may have had some turbulance.
You know, it's Human Nature, to rebound. To fight physical ills and to beleive and live and hope...
...some fellow Survivor's of sexual Abuse, Incest and Rape, will take alternative routes to make it through their life long fkkk that comes from growing up getting fkkked and NO ONE "heard" the silent screams behind the face of this Sierra kid or she, in the other grade, my sister. I perhaps, then come to the conclusion that it I/We did not matter...
...no one noticed or reported the deep brusies - no one reported the crying...
...nor was the screaming listened to as I would rush to hush my breath to keep it from escaping my very vocal, vocal cords. These vocal cords, know how I would...
...scream out loud today! That there were just so many to teach me how to swallow the poison...
...and not sip it, like a gentleman would. Blow's my mind.
One swallow's from the flask...
...as one would sip from a flute. The Gentleman would say.
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