The Ramblings Of The Lost…

The Ramblings Of The Lost, Lonely, And Defeated

They say you can’t pour from an empty cup..I’ve been pouring from my core till the end of the root and somehow keep finding more even in the endless drought. 

But I think I finally tapped the source and my body is dying. I can feel the life squeezed out of me and all that’s left are the scars and bruises because my friend, oh does the body keep score. 

How am I supposed to find anything left to give when the oxygen has been depleted from my chest. My lungs are ash and my breasts are dry. The river that once flowed through me is just as barren as my womb. 

This world has taken everything from me… all that’s left of this decaying corpse is the love that still flows from my pores. I know it’s there because my body relinquishes it in the form of tears. Because that’s all that is left of me to bear. 

My soul is tired. All it can do is lay there and cry. Curled up in a ball is the inner child, sobbing for its mother and the crone weeps for the loss of the maiden. And the woman breathes in deeply and yet nothing exhales. She’s been holding her breath for years. 

She’s not scared anymore. She’s faced all her demons. She’s slayed all her dragons. But no one talks about the soldier after the war. Sure they can relive their battles, but no one can look loss in the face without feeling shame for the shortcomings of the village.

By Becca Hulen

From: United States