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#80123 - 11/28/06 04:26 PM Who I Am
Bobby Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 12/01/04
Posts: 1287
Loc: Arizona
It's strange that after all these years
All these therapists
Who know me better than my mother ever did
That I could still be learning who I am
Two of us
Or maybe more
A thousand maybe
The Bobby Tabernacle Choir
But mainly two
Together in this body
In this mind
But not
Each gone our separate ways
I knew of him
Emotionally
His sadness
That he was wounded somehow
For sometimes he would cry through my eyes
His tears running down my cheeks
He spoke to me through poetry
Still does
But I thought they were mine
The thoughts of suicide
The overwhelming sadness that he felt
But only lately have I known he lives
A separate life
Almost
Always there
Just under where I live
Just barely under
So that I can feel him always now
Oh, now I realize that I could always feel him
But not quite so close
That was before I knew
The things
That happened to us both when we were one
You see, he kept those things so I could live
But you can only keep those things inside so long
And so now we try to come together once again
Strangers
And yet brothers
One......perhaps
But who will give in first
Who will let the other lead the way
And which one is the child
One has to be
Sometimes I think it's him
And sometimes me
For many times his wisdom
His thoughts
The things he as to say
Surprise me so
I think, these things can't come from one so young
And yet, I'm not sure wisdom comes with age
Just knowing how to do a thing or two
And he can write the most gut wrenching things
I feel them so inside
And then, in that same instant turn this damn computer off
And go about my work
As if he never hurt at all
Until there is a lull of sorts
Sneaks up on me
And there he is again
And sadness fills me once again
I sometimes think we'll never live as one
And healing
At least mine
May be that now I understand that we are two
At least two very different halves of something whole that split apart
Was torn apart
Was ripped apart
But there he goes again and, if I didn't hold my ground would take this writing over and cry and gnash his teeth again
Why can't he just get over it
We.....just get over it
He hurt us
Hated us
And why an "us" at all
Why not a me
Why can't I ever say that he hurt me
Not yet
One day
One day, I'll take the ownership of all that hate and hurt, but not today
Today he still can have it
Hold it
Live it
Cry his tear-less tears all day
I have work to do
We'll meet a couple times today
When no one is around
I love him
Feel for him
Want to be one with him
At least I think I do
But, what if when we're one we are just him
Or we're just me
I would not lose the person he's become for anything
For of the two of us, he's much the better
I, the worker
He the one who feels, who loves, who hurts, who laughs from the inside out
Not like me
Laughing to disguise the pain
Every day I understand a little more
And yet don't understand enough to make it go away
You know..........
What happened
What someone did
But, there he goes again
And I don't have the time to let him ramble on
I've got a lot of work to do.

_________________________
I'm healing now, and I wasn't sure I would.




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#80124 - 12/04/06 07:51 PM Re: Who I Am
Derdlecar Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 11/08/05
Posts: 1314
Loc: Ogden Utah, USA
Bobby,

I've read this over and over day after day for nearly a week now. I have wanted to reply but couldn't come up with the right words. All I can say through my tears is "Thanks"

Love ya
derdle

_________________________
If a man would get his life on track, he must first go back to the place where it was derailed.

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