I Run

I run away, far away, from your mistakes, away from memories that can’t be erased. I can find no healing in the scars left behind, tainting anything that would have given me a beauty in purity, anything that would have given me the mercy of wholeness. Instead I run, away from you and from my memories, but I know not where I run to, yet the memories follow me everywhere I go, deep and far they find me in this forever night. Locked in the past, frozen in the present, and fear of what is to come. What if nothing comes of this and this is what I must deal with everyday, day in day out, forevermore? Death is something I know too intimately. I know the death of my innocence, death of wholeness, purity, death of a normal childhood, of a normal life. I know the death of whatever other me could have been. I know the death of dreams of a life that could have been that will never be. Every memory that haunts the halls of my mind kill a little more of me every time it walks, dragging imprisoning chains that keep me bound in a past I want to be freed from. You shamed me and the scars will never go away. I cut my hair; I rip the arms of my dress, and cover my head with ash. Bitterness from a deep sorrow keeps me choking on uncried tears, gasping for a breath of freshness, rather than this stale air of the past. Why I am so locked in a past I have no desire to remember? Why do I remember a little more in the dreams of the night, of times that wake me up retching, and pleading it’s only a bad dream and not a new reality that is remembered from somewhere locked deep inside? If all if it was locked away would it gain me the freedom I long for? Could the oil of gladness pour over me and my ashes be put away and could a veil of white cover me once more without the memories to taint that which I would want to believe? You’ve made a mess for me to live in, a hell that imprisons me and holds me captive from all that I long to do and all I long to be. I long for the me that had this all packaged in a neat box, packed far away and ready to meet whatever day came my way. Right now I am so far away and I don’t even know when I began to stray. Can I find arms that will wrap me tight, banishing the memories for all time and give me the fresh start that I long for? Is there a beauty I can find in a forgivable grace that might be bestowed on me? Is it possible that I can be found even where I stand right now, so I don’t have to travel down another wrong road? Tell me that I’m not too far way, that there’s freedom from these scars, from this mess that was made, that all can be forgiven and the memories will be erased and I can find the beauty of Your grace.

Melissa Fitwilliam