Thursday, September 22, 2011


…It’s like when you break a bone and it gets healed but you still see that small line where it never fits back together the way it used to be. Fractured…but I’m not talking about bones, it’s something much deeper than just the bone.

The only fracture I have had on my body is my wrist but if I die of natural causes no one would ever be able to know that, no one would be able to tell. There’ll be no autopsy done on the internal mechanisms of what happened to me. Nothing will show unless there’s trauma to my hand or my arm that that wrist had once been broken, just like nothing will show the fracture that took place deep down inside of me many years ago. I wouldn’t say it got as deep as my core but it’s somewhere between my core, my soul and my body where I was fractured. It is a place where there was a break and a shift; it healed but it didn’t heal correctly so that gap that small small area where the things that were broken don’t fit completely together as perfect as they had been. There’s a small overlap and that’s what I’m missing. I need for that overlap to be pushed back into place so I won’t be fractured anymore, so that when I have the memories that are coming to me and I have the flashbacks that are of me ,that are not quite clear when they try to cross over that line that designates where the fracture occurred, they come in blurry. But if I close that gap and shift the bones or shift that place in me back in sync with all of me then maybe I can remember, maybe I’ll start to recall more things than just the abortion that I had when I was fifteen and the way the needle that was stuck in my stomach moved as she died. She was trying to get away from the poison that they injected into me which eventually killed her and induced labor. I saw her when she came out, very red, very dark, covered in blood. I saw them cut the umbilical cord and they told me to rest because I would have to give birth again to the “after birth”…what was keeping her alive was now going to come out of me dead, as she did.

It’ll keep me…it’ll help me remember more than realizing that there wasn’t just someone laying in my bed behind me, there wasn’t just a person who I would wake up in the morning and they would be there. Realizing that yes I did feel something between my legs. And yes I did feel something not quite right, but I don’t recall all of what exactly happened. I guess that’s when the fracturing started taking place. It was a slow fracture it wasn’t something that just snapped instantly, I don’t think. I think it was something that cracked over time and with each atrocity and with each pain and with each violation the crack got bigger and bigger until I lost everything in that gap.

I hope that either the edges will be soldered down and there will be no more gaps or that I will shift. I feel like I’m shifting. I feel like eventually I’ll know everything…I’m not sure if I WANT to know but I feel like there’s a place in me that’s mending that I never knew existed. I guess I was intellectually aware of the fracture, I was intellectually aware of the gaps but I really didn’t know them until I was forced to address them.

Those gaps put me, well they didn’t put me anywhere, they didn’t allow me to fully experience who I am. That fracture that occurred kept me from living life, making connections, loving people and being loved. That gap that was there, that’s shrinking as I look at it now, kept me from enjoying life. I walked thru life, I survived, I existed, I fought, I grinded my teeth…I exceeded, I excelled but now as I sit still and try to go deeper inside of myself and look at the fracture and look at the scar and look at the broken places that an autopsy would never show I realize that I have a second chance. I realize that if I keep going inside to look at and take care of and heal and push the gap…smaller and smaller, push the bones back in sync with each other, push that energy and that space back in alignment then I will eventually be free of the gap, free of the overlap, free of the cloudy images that haunt me when I’m not expecting them. I think I’m going be free one day soon.

(spoken then typed)