Post by kt on Apr 19, 2004 6:20:36 GMT -5
And with the realisation that nothing would change came an intense anger, a terrible grief and an iron strength unfolding in the core of the stomach, stretching its arms in a giant yawn that filled the corners of the body. A yawn that could not close its mouth, a sickness in the stomach that fed on the anger and grief, all feeding on themselves until only the shell remained of what was once myself. If you can imagine a human, crouched helplessly over the toilet bowl, vomiting endlessly, stomach contorted and bowels tensed, mouth agape to accommodate the torrent of bile. Stomach lining appearing in bloody dots on white porcelain, a body turning itself inside out head upside down until the only reality is the solid cold object your hands grasp. Don't let go don't let go. This is no sickness that washes you past death onto the shores of weakness where time drags you painfully back to strength. This is a purging of the soul that the mind cannot perceive as having a beginning or an end, it exists only in the present and nothing can prevent it or fight its inevitable conclusion, the weakness is omnipotent for there is nothing any more to cling to I am lost. Except love. Invisible yet tough beyond endurance it watches with glowing eyes for the moment your heart breaks with the knowledge and the grief. Unseen hands pull you towards an embrace which sobbing you try to resist for the pain of re-emergence is too much, yet, like the contractions of a mother’s womb the force pulsates and helpless, your passage begins. Death is not for you now however much you want and long for its comfort. Too many people love you in this world and you yourself love too much for her to let you go. My grief is realised in a scream that I summon from the depths of my emptied stomach, bile breath shooting from raw throat and escaping me, poison purged. From the darkest recesses of the lungs I draw breath to scream again but as life fills it spills, pouring into new outlets until I choke, cough and cry as one newborn into the world, helpless, vulnerable, curled into foetal ball with eyes tight shut against the bright faces of expectant, eager loved ones. For an eternity I remain closeted in silent chains, every atom clenched and straining to return to that world where grief and pain are too huge to comprehend, but the effort cannot be sustained and soon I acknowledge my weakness by unfurling in short, agonising jerks, trembling and fearful, feeling their breath warm and alive on my aching limbs, letting each caress pull me pliant and unresisting now into this ugly beautiful world. I am suffocating and I smile, and I wait for the cycle to begin again.
