Morning Most Difficult: Impressions of Loss. 3-3-13

Dry Tree Silhouette

I open my eyes. I am in a box without light. I hear a woman sobbing uncontrollably. She has forgotten I am here. Awareness scratches its filthy claws across my face. The day dawns once more, slashing hope. I exist in a world without tomorrow. Today is too much to bear. Yesterday is a recurring nightmare that will not fade. Mangled memories are soaked in sewage and tears. I follow walls, perimeters, around and around, looking for an exit that is not there.

I am a little girl sitting on the freezing cold curb in front of a forest-green house caressing a rotting teddy bear without eyes. I finger tiny, slivered fragments strewn across the pavement, that are mangled furniture, belongings, my past: bull-dozed into oblivion by the County. Crushed! My hands bleed into the mutilated soil: wasteland of my legal address. Splinters fester. Cars race past, without slowing, without seeing: having someplace to go, a destination. Their dust chokes my bloodshot eyes. I shiver with reality.

We stand long outside the entrance to our homes, afraid to turn the knob. We know! There is nothing inside: nothing we can touch! There is a terrifying landscape of obliteration, mixed with sweet memories. There is a wound in the floor that sucked the life from this place, and will not heal. It festers and grows with each passing day. Time is our enemy: mold flakes and floats from walls that will not dry, without money, There is a divide growing. Apathy brushes past invisible survivors: we become a class apart. It is so difficult to walk amongst the rubble, but impossible to turn away. Others judge us unkindly for seeking restoration.

The coastline is decimated: with cars hanging from telephone poles, and water gushing out of windows of houses. Beaches were sucked out to sea and flung into the streets: creating new channels, destroying transportation networks. Structures turned to tinder. Neighborhoods were devastated: homes burned down and floated away. Sewage washed through bedrooms. Babies were torn from mother’s arms. Young men were crushed. Life is lost! Communication was severed. Essential functions shut down. Food ran out and gas caused panic in the streets. I could not hold back the waters or keep the cyclone from its deadly path: it was too powerful. It was armageddon: apocalypse! Loss is stark reality!

Memory is chewing glass. Tomorrow is running across hot tar.

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