Revised and improved I think.
The Fractal II
I am a fractal, fragments inside, still unassembled from fear maybe pride.
I am a fractal. The world does not see, I’m different inside from the outside of me. The world cannot see, as I cannot share. So the world moves on leaving me there.
I am a fractal, parts in strange places, created by events that each left new faces. Each one added a fractal to me, an imprint frozen in sad cruelty.
My dreams bring snapshots through the lense of my eyes, when evil did find me to use and despise. Snapshots to never let me forget, as if I was there and still with them yet. Snapshots of what some did not see. Snapshot reminders, what “they” thought of me. Snapshots to maintain their hold on my will, but I shall be free and no longer still.
Maybe protectors did not want to see, could not understand the “it” or the “me”. They left me there to fight all alone, and I did not know I was not on my own.
Had good people known they would have helped me, but I could not tell on the others you see. The bad people said, “good will run” if I told. I believed their lies and could not be bold.
Inside of my soul, parts may just be, stuck untill He reassembles this me. Stuck at 6, 9, teenager, adult – old far to soon but it’s not my fault. I have no age, not in reality; chronology doesn’t matter, it will never be me. I am a fractal I was not meant to be.
My image of self is large and is small, measurements of time and I lived them all. Events that I could not control, created the fractal and shattered the whole.
Events created this “me” and this “I”. My youth side is fearful and my older asks why? My older one born on a day I was 6, when innocence died as evil started new tricks. It played on for years and plays on me still, as evil still tries to distort my will.
I am down in this moment, sometimes I fear “they” will find me once more…if I tell too much here. I am sure they all knew me, who I was from a far, those ones who took me to that shed or the car. All strangers to me I don’t know their names, but with coaxing or threats I would play their games.
I am down and afraid in the moment just now, but I will get up and move on somehow. I will reshape the fractal in me; I will become the one was meant to be. If I stay down it lets “them” win, and I will not let that happen again.
My image of self comes from three different places, enhanced by events, by good and bad faces.
One place, because the predators imposed, uses unseen by eyes that were closed. At home, at school, jobs – everywhere, but I was still seen by One who did care.
One place in a world where all they could see, was my outside fractal not the inside of me. A boy often angry and sad with them there. Yet no one asked; “why’s this child in despair?”
The last place? A world where the spiritual exist, where angels speak truth that demons can’t twist. Twice I have gone to challenge them there, no longer fearful with the armor I wear. If called to return I will follow His will, a voice for my guide that is small and is still.
This “me” on the outside still cannot show, all who I am to all those I know.
My little one sleeping safe inside me, having fought his battles its time he was free. My fractal youth has taken it now, guided by the Spirit we’ll move forward somehow. He is all grown up, inexperienced it’s true, but has strength to fight back and push this one through. The older one will join when his time comes I know, and when that day comes the “me” then will go.
I am a fractal and always may be. But events of the past will not define me. I have broken the chains of shame, guilt and fear, they will never come back that much is clear. Never again to be put onto me, and free from all hurts someday I’ll be.
I am in pain now but my battle is won, as a survivor my life has begun. Events are things that I cannot change. They will give me strength now, though that may sound strange.
I am a fractal but now can you see, who I am now…and who I will be?
Edited by BuffaloCO (02/27/13 04:29 PM)
Edit Reason: Typo
“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark. The real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” - Plato