And so life just goes on. There does not need to be some big drama about
it. We live everyday and we learn everyday and we grow. I could walk
amongst a thousand people. I am no different to every other human
being. Plodding through life trying to make sense of it.
My body is a shell. My face merges with the sea. My mind….my mind can clear itself and let itself be and so the shell, heavy in the water falls deep to the bottom of the Ocean. She will remain there in the silence. For everyday she can see the sun shining on the waves above. Her shell glistens. And every night her old friend the moon can be seen. The shell closes her eyes, she does not need to see him. She can feel him deep within
Now I become Myself Maybe I did die those four weeks ago Perhaps a part of me let go I try to think back and remember what brought me to this point, but my memory still fails me They say I will begin to remember again in time Have a little patience I am not a patient lady You don’t need to be in control all the time Yes, I do I am a control freak I like to have a handle on things Don’t tell me I don’t need to do that because that is who I am Don’t you want me to be who I am? Am I to change again to fit into your world your world? I am a bird I am free I cry to my children and tell them I’m sorry I didn’t mean it I would say I love you I don’t want to die I just want my head to stop to stop to stop I still feel it I think I have a phantom electric current still in my head Daily grinding burning it makes me jump and there is nothing there There is a certain freedom about letting go A flash of freedom Not having to pretend Being set free A head that stops that stop that stops I am who I am I am I am who I am I am I painted these pictures after the ECT I have no memory of painting them These paintings now I hold dear to me They become my story one that I cannot tell One that I cannot remember They are the story of losing my mind of being violated Tortured Like some sort of animal left out to die Not fit enough for keeping The rut of the pack I am I am I am I am who I am who I am I am the rut of the pack I am the woman who painted these pictures I am the woman who exposed her mind But who cannot recall Who I am I am I am