By Adlin Shorter
The evening sun was handed to the night by the eclipsed crescent moon which stood guard over the room which housed Mya. Within the walls she made it her home and boxed herself away from her disgrace.
In her most painful hour, the half-moons gaze guarded her from the echoed whispers.
Like thick fog it clouded over the house unable to reason,
Mya withdrew into the corner of her bed. Like bullets the unspoken words had hit, and it hurt.
The heaviness of the night was filled with fear, her one chance had been snatched away leaving her helpless. Her disgrace had held her back.
The first quarter was left with the rawness of her painful decisions with the confusion of things that were never said but only behind closed doors, the face and the humiliation which drained her. The thickness of the fog filtered through to all involved seeking out to destroy her. The bedroom was furnished with acquaintances that busybodied around her with the coldness of wanting and waiting for her next move.
The moon’s glow blossomed the old wardrobe in the corner which had morphed into distorted mannerisms which towered over her. The blue-eyed monsters haunted and caged her in a coffin which was her bed in which she lay asleep with a threat that silenced her. Unable to think clearly, she comforted herself by bargaining with the blue-eyed monsters, she had no choice it was her own way of keeping them at bay from scrutinizing eyes
The first quarter left her feeling apprehensive and mistrustful of wanting to share and reach out to anyone that would listen. As much as she tried to make a bold escape from the shackles of her disgrace only to find the repetitiveness had held her back to the burial ground where she was of benefit.
There was no way out. Mya had felt trapped and left frightened, Mya had made her home in the darkness. This was made the core of her existence. Hand in hand her disgrace had cradled her and offered no remorse.
Mya had no were to go, she sought comfort in recreation from which she was allowed limited time to think of other everyday things.
The waxing gibbous moon reflection had given her time to question everything around her even her disgrace why, how and can I move forward from this? If so, how having been put upon. Her disgrace was gift-wrapped with insults, the offer of money in exchange for her silence and the suggestion to keep quiet so that others can benefit and move on was the final blow. This un-rewritten agreement was left with a final word “deal with it”. During Mya’s recreational moment she had not long to gather thoughts, she had bundled them away in her head along with what she could salvage and packed them with what little dignity and pride left. She was ready to make her transition into the last phase of her life.
The bright blue glow of the full moon had faded out the distorted figures that had raped Mya’s existence. It took with it the silent voices, the shame, deceit and betrayal back to the place of yesterday’s graveyard.
Mya now stood alone she had now become an individual, no longer the washer upper, the ass wiper. The prop the ‘tagalong’ friend, the show pony, the trusted fool. The ‘dunce bat’ crippled and confined the school of lost causes with a non-existent life with no future.
Mya, the individual person that loves to dance, who's creative, laughs, loves and feels. Mya had gone to bed that day and woke up to a beautiful sunrise.
Happy Birthday to Shakti celebrating our 16th birthday!