The rain has come, pouring down, she feels it like it’s running down her soul. She was once a kingdom in her own right, she didn’t let the world in and she rarely slipped out from behind the walls of the castle she built. She didn’t let the light in because it would shine on the thoughts she left in darkness, she loved the dark.
She had fractured memories, and she had forgotten more than she knew of her past. She could grasp the ones that made her heart smile. She danced, once again, on her front porch to her record player with her cousin laughing as they imitated the adults in their lives. She held onto the memory of the old woman, she lived in a one room shack, and all the kids thought she was a witch, playing games with her, knocking on her door and running terrified through the tall grass and hiding. She had picked a bouquet of flowers from that same field and walked right up and knocked, standing there half frightened, but when she saw her open the door, the old woman’s face broke out in a beautiful smile with her lined face and her wild unkempt silver hair. She invited her in and made her hot chocolate and gave her cookies. It was those kinds of memories that broke through at times to remind her that she did have moments of light. She wasn’t sure how those innocent moments had slipped away, where innocence actually goes, or why she felt so far away.
She stepped up to the window and just stared through the raindrops, sometimes she felt nothing but numb or maybe emptied, but by grace, she was reminded that her fight wasn’t futile. There were people who could move her, make her climb out of the proverbial well, she knew she wasn’t alone, but sometimes she imagined that …she was. She was never one to give into her thoughts, maybe it was her understanding of pain, that she went to extremes to protect those she loved from it, in any way she could. She kept everything under control and locked away, it wasn’t wrong to do, if she hadn’t drown them, they would have drowned her…but every once in a while like monsters in a movie, their hands reached out from the grave and grabbed at her, but she managed to put them back in that graveyard inside of her, sometimes she won and sometimes, she just let go, but they never had enough power to overcome her. Someday she hoped to take back what they took or maybe she hoped that she learned that they hadn’t taken anything and she just stored up everything, one day she would trust herself enough to let it all flow back into her. She was unsure, always, and it was a learned behavior, being sure of something and then having it ripped away was always a repetitive cycle throughout her life. She wanted to feel that wild thing in her but she had practiced long and hard to tame her spontaneity, her reach from reaching too far, her dreams from being reality because she always lost them along the way. The pounding of those footsteps behind her became a ghost haunting her spirit, reminding her of that, haunting everything she wanted to believe in. It’s sad when people rip away your faith so much that you’re afraid to even give it a chance. She danced in her mind though, in that beautiful gown, held in the arms of love, and she saw flowers for miles and miles, and somewhere in the chambers of her castle, candles burned bright with hope. She dared at times to visit there..it kept the coldness in her from climbing up, even thawing her at times long enough for her to catch a glimpse and feel…herself.