SCENE XIII: A Series of First.


Where do I begin?

Moving back to look forward

Now here I stand static

Remembering every little thing

A series of events

My firsts and lasts

But why go to the end

Lets go back to the start.

A seed I grew

Nurtured and bloomed

In her womb

I felt-

My first love

She was the one my heart aligned too

She was the one I clung too

Father’s voice my first alpha

Apple of his eye

He called me daughter.

I grew with nature,

First saw her

In all her glory

While butterflies amazed me;

In the rooks and waters

I felt my first sensations

Fear came but I was too innocent.

First cut was falling off a swing

First mend was a mother’s kiss;

First song was grandma’s hymns

First burn my grandpa’s pipe

First scar my brother’s toy sword

First gold was a star sticker;

First pain was daddy crying

First anger was mommy crying

First heartbreak was mommy dying

First fight was with God

First reconciliation was with God.

First torture was silence

First felt alone in an empty house

First drowned in depression

First felt alive in redemption;

First saw light when I was in the dark

First caught myself laughing

Watching ducks in the park;

First felt connected when he held my hand

First felt afraid when I held his hand

First was the kiss and my heart skipped

First skipped now back on loop

First came the cut now the scar

Stumbling back into the dark

Why am I at the start?

Now in counting my firsts

I felt a burst

Of tears streaming while I was laughing

In all of it

In completing it;

How it lingers in the first…

And on this first summer’s day

The wind makes me think of her

As my heart resumes to start.



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