A Hero

silently weeping

tears of lonely placess

hattered illusions

painful in their gift

endlessly questioning

meanings and truths

trying to answerwhat lies inside

swelling.. pounding

driving down like hard rain

the pain pulls me endlesslyinto a swirl of seething emptiness

barren and familiar

it feels ugly and unlovable

circling – thinking – shifting

and remaining

in a cycle of recurring situations of despair

what will come of this life

of self hatred

what will be born of the ashes of my soul

what will remind me

that someplace

I am something other than

a sea of pain

whose tide moves my heart

from one remembrance to another

back and forth

with no obvious place to break free

drowning me in sorrow

immersing me in icy emotions of longing

I await a hero

a savior

a rope to uplift me

I hope

and remain filled with hopelessness

and lack of faith

paralyzed by the icy water

I fall prey to hypothermia

no longer truly living

pulling my energy into the core of my being

in an attempt at mere survival

swimming seems to be an impossible task

who will rescue me

only me

I have refused to receive my hero

myself

and uplift me to freedom

from that which I have refused to let go of

how absurd

my pain breeds more pain

until I am choosing painfulness

unconsciously

and assuming the role of victim

how convenient

if I am a victim

I am free of responsibility

and my pain can be placed squarely on the shoulders

of anyone available

to be seen as the victimizer

Such and ugly cycle

that with awareness

I must degrade myself

for participating in it

and place guilt upon me

and start the cycle all over again

Engtovo ~ March 16 1999

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