For 12 months we tried to fight the cloth tied over our face
Begging to be free, pleading for control back of our spaces
When the days brought flowers again, the hope rose
The belief was that normalcy would return
We untied, dismantled, and tore off our masks
Jubilated to feel free of this grasp
Instead, what was found was both desolate and perplexing
Normal had nowhere to go
Except back into our purposeless pit
The place that held who we believed we were and wanted to be
Normal began to feel more like a fraud than a foundation
Yes, our breathe could flow in and out of our inlet
But still felt imprisoned in our cavity, so tight
Relationship was rigid and stiff
Both with ourselves and fellow peers
Our feelings and tempers rioting inside
Blurting out our inadequacies far and wide
After 2 short moons
It was recommended to tie that cloth back to our faces
Which we did in most places
A feeling of ease at this cumbersome taskTo keep the monster behind our mask
12/25/09 The orange ring lays against fragile skin. A constant reminder of the pain and sorrow...also a memory of endurance and gain. 30 beads each with different meaning..circles the wrist while never ending. The hurt and denial expressed with each glance, anxiety and guilt overwhelm when its gone. without those orange beads meaning is lost, and emptiness fills.
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