14 March 2013
I remember when... ---
I mean why does someone you cherish so much, disregard and hurt you? All you want to accomplish is probably to gain a little warmth, a smile, a hug or even some pleasant words but their disdain only allows you scorn, bitter resentment and chilling words…
Her eyes lit up as it digged into my soul, prised open my heart, and tore it apart.
She enjoyed the power she possessed over me and carried on hurling abusive language that tugged at my defences one by one. I heard it all before; the nagging, the screaming, the cursing but, worse of all was the downgrading. If I attempted to open my mouth in defence I would receive physical pressure of fingers pinching me, twisting me. The bellowing voice; “How dare you raise your hands against me?!!” filled with rage and shock, questioning your defensive gestures as you try to push away the hands that cause you pain, the pain you’re feeling in your guts.
You get used to it over time, accepting the normality of it, sensing the comical aspect –a woman full of rage emptying her repulsion of the world around, enraged at her inability to better herself, her life. Restricted to the confines of her home -her domain, her kingdom. Where she the powerful can enforce her rules, her dictatorship, her illogical ideals to her spawn/offspring/children, who defenceless, have come to accept her bitter, twisted mind, hoping she will heal one day, she will radiate love and above all; she will be worthy of the word mum/mother.
Until that day my silence with withhold to her. I will tuck away all that’s said and done at the back of my head, where many memories hide, nurtured in the dark, taking the form of emptiness. When asked “What are you thinking of so deeply?” by my friends, not knowing the true answer, not registering cause what I was thinking dissolved back into the mist to create an almost blank canvas… I say almost because what I don’t remember and recall I feel deeply for, so much so my soul wants to cry but it doesn’t know why...
~ Copyright © Ozlem Yikici. All rights reserved.
--- Sorry it's rather grim Eddie.
An Almost Blank Canvas • Opuss № I