I often wonder what I must have done in a previous life. I assume it must have been something awful.
The other day, I had an image of a slave owner, and I was torturing a slave woman and I liked it. I took a sharp piece of metal and shoved it into her abdomen. I believe I hated her for some real reason. The thought brought up bile in my throat.
I had a dream about watching pools of blood in the streets that I grew up in. I watched my father, mother and brother be killed. The SS tried to take my two sisters and I, but I started a fire, and killed our captors. We ran away to France.
In this life I have loved and hated, but I have loved much more than I ever have before. I fall in love with all kinds of people and places. My heart cries for children and animals and nature.
I have been taken from since I was young. My heart, my innocence and time. I know my parents didn’t mean it. I know they live with their karma too. So when they said those things, I also saw the broken pieces inside of them.
I wish I could have been the child they wanted. Always too sensitive and crying. A dreamer and lover looking in all the wrongs places.
I am sorry, I didn’t ask to be born but still you called me selfish.
I worked my whole life to disprove this notion. I know I fail in the most ridiculous ways, but if I could right now, I would die if it would take away all of my loved ones pain.
He asked me why I keep going, why I can not seem to stop?
Because I know that if I stop, I will die. I know that stillness equates the nothing and nothing will take everything away.
My heart pounds without reason, in the middle of a quiet day or sleeping in the night. This part of me says “It’s here! It’s coming!”
I wait, wait, wait like darkness runs from the rising sun.
I know you are always on your way, to take from me again, now I believe I must deserve this everlasting sin.