Susan Smiles

Eternal Dreams of Passage

In the stillness of my epiphany, in the darkness of this rage, in the moment of a sudden breath taken away by age, in the road of empty travels, and the storms of inner revenge, as a little girl unravels upon her perpetrator’s hands. He slowly sneaks through the forbidden door, through the net of white, through the noise of quiet crickets, in the crescent fallen night. He puts a finger upon his lips, he tells to say no more, and in my nightmares of reality, as if a demon walked through the moor. He makes me close my fearful eyes, and rain beset my chest, I cry like the entire world is gone, and emptiness left the rest. Through the twilight, through the voice of nightfall’s rain, through the quiet stabbing scream, through the terror that I’ve been. At last I feel so folded, a little flower at rest, it sways to show no beauty, it hides its aching mess. It blooms distinct the spring leaves, unlike the fields of grass, a little girl just longing for
this eternal pain to pass. Hold tight until the morning, hold tight until the day, and keep your silent weeping until he walks away. Grip on to your only transience, grip on to illusory dreams, do not wonder do not ponder; don’t depend on what it means. And as this existence may scroll on, as the shadows continue to follow, as the child in me is growing and awaiting my tomorrow, the nights hold me no refuge, the days just empty space, the crying child still lingers as I long to find my place. And though the days have passed me and survival of those nights, and though the stormy weather dreams have left in ancient flights, the man is still waiting in my nightmares, through the unforgiving moor, and in these dreams I cannot help to fear the forbidden door. So in this stillness of my adulthood, in the hours of empty hopes, in the chills of summer pains and passing through to cope, I still feel this dim epiphany, in the darkness of my rage, in the moment of my painful breath taken away by age.

Jerri-Anne Rafanan