she was always there, a wind that blew through my core. a hollowing scraping emptiness, a beautiful Ecstasy, the feeling of smallness. she clasped me at birth, bathed me in sensation, gave meaning to all of this she was there, always. It wasn't the fights she let erupt in my childhood, ugly scarring fights that leave me so much older when the echos of the shouts fade, when the bruises begin to pulse. It wasn't the fear she instilled into my grandmother, the fear that flowed over pouring from her soul into my young fragile mind. taunting us with visions of the end, asking for our faith and promising disaster. it wasn't when she decided my aunts and uncles where meaningless. she scattered their ashes to the winds, left their earthly forms to rot. like a thief she stole them and never apologized. it wasn't when she ate up every moment of my childhood, when she willed my father to leave, when she aged me with each passing day. it wasn't when she decided the only person worth anything in my life was nothing more than a distraction. I'm not sure when it was, or what the final straw was, but i remember the fallout. the hollowing scraping emptiness, the beautiful Ecstasy, the feeling of being so vast and connected to it all, waking from a dream and into reality, and infinite reality, and infinite life. I still see her clasping her arms around the old and young, filling them with her love, her selfish and giving love, i used to be bitter and and brood, stubbornly ignoring her, scorning her, hating her. yet i pass her daily as to old lover pass knowing the secrets within her, feeling her pry the secrets from within me, knowing that eventually will make up and she'll clasp me in her holy embrace. when we embrace once more it shall be as one god to another, lovers shaping the universe, making the empty vast nothingness, into something.
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