Re tracing 12

12 th part

Somehow, I doubted the existence of the shed. The large black holes in my memory only occasionally offered glimpses of scattered moments.

I’d always been told that I had a wild imagination and the missing moments of my life created confusion in my efforts to recall events that randomly flashed up and disappeared from my grasp had become harder to ignore.

It wasn’t until my own daughter had reached 4 years old that these flashes of memories became troubling for me.

Photo by Kurt van Krieken on Unsplash

I needed to know the truth.

And so, I returned to my grandparents home and retraced the steps of my childhood.

It didn’t take long to locate the hidden track that I’d long ago walked, leading me on once again.

I found the shed, still standing, still holding me trapped inside.

I ran from its presence, shaking my head and stifling an inward scream of disbelief.

I left that place, and knew then, the truth. No more could I convince myself that the summer I spent at my grandparents were the happiest times of my life.

I didn’t know it then but it would take another 20 years for me to enter the shed and begin to reclaim myself once more.

Pieces

A piece of me is missing

but you wouldn’t really know

I keep the torn part hidden

so that it doesn’t show.

It’s just to the left of loneliness

underneath the loss and pain

the gap it leaves is jagged

That keeps the sadness in.

I cover it with dreams and hopes

Of being whole again

but salty tears and emptiness

are all that I can claim.

There was a time that it was whole

a carefree trusting thing

But the wicked deeds of others

Tore it open with its sting.

🦋