I look at her
and see
the beginnings of
myself,
and is that not something
worth celebrating?

Slave?
By Glenn Currier

I had forgotten him
until he appeared in a dream -
he so qualified
me so average -
and I awakened barely recalling him
but the shame attacked me with a fury
and has not loosened its grip
even in the late afternoon.
And I thought I became a different person
after twenty years,
even in the last five years.
Am I still shackled to that old self
with scars like ex-slaves carried
from the chains and whips?
It seems people fade but feelings rarely do.

I remember you, clear as crystal
Young and bold, hopeful but not dreamy
Courageous, stubborn, a bit too rebellious

With a spark like stars, shining bright in your eyes
You aspired to not stand out, but stand tall and rise
But that day on the station, I lost you
You saw me, waved me off

I did not realize, I was 22 and I lost myself in you.

Take me back to the month of June, 
when my only worry was not waking the whole house
when trying to catch the fleeting beauty of the sunrise.
 
Nothing but wild locks of brunette and
gold intertwining to make a perfect wave.
Constantly being told I smelled of salt,
but to me it was more like freedom.
 
My feet always raw from burning sand,
raw from weathering shells.
Sweet feelings, new wavelengths;
lips sticky from the chocolate milkshake.
 
No closed toed, wool lined attire in sight,
but instead surf tees and ripped jeans.
Bottle caps were collectables,
Bud Light Lime still resonates on my tongue.
 
I’ve been trying so hard to find my old self,
until I realized I had sadly let it slip away;
just like the sun does
beneath the horizon on those endless summer days.

But,
I know the windows will soon be down
and the sun will rise again,
just as I will.

Sometimes I look at the old photographs
Pressed between worn out pages
Of times I do not remember,
For the times I keep guarded
I keep no mark of.
So I stare at that little girl
Whose eyes are same as mine
And has seen the same wars as I,
Because the damage was done
When I was a kid.
From then to now
The wars have ceased,
That little girl has seen too much for her age
Than now I ever will.
I wonder when I look at her face,
I fail to connect
That's how I stay away from people.
I wonder if she thought of the future ahead
How her strength then would let her live?
If she knew why she continued to fight ,
If she ever had any hope at all,
Or she thought she couldn't simply die?
Because all I can think now
Is ending it here.
I have hope, I really do
But I look at her decades back
And I don't see the point.
She was so scared, all the time
She had her walls so high
She, the moment she understood
Spent her time wishing to save others.
Her life contained days
That belonged to everyone around,
Her fight thereupon easier.
I guess the problem ensued
When she started to have her own.
I look at her, I look at her
She doesn't look anything like me,
I don't feel anything at all
But pain.
I want to tell her
That is all she will ever feel,
That pain she thought would go away
Would bury itself in her soul
And she will never feel alive again.
I never really recognize her by her looks
It's always how she makes me feel,
I stare at her
And the sadness has remained,
The fear still lines up
And happiness for some people
Is a momentary event
That simply intensifies the pain.

Tell me who you are.
Who you were.
Who you’ve been.
Before you met him.