• Giuliana Davar

On Emotional Breakdown #1...

Have you ever felt someone praying for you?

To feel the surgence of light

being transmitted

through their hands

as they hold you close to their heart?

It was a queer feeling.

So broken and weak was I.

Collapsed.

Achy.

Exhausted and asleep

from the utter breakdown I just had.  That’s when she came,

a mother’s love,

a soft flutter.

Sitting quietly at the edge of my bed.

Me, still asleep,

I couldn’t even open my eyes if I tried.

Swollen shut from the crying.

Fits of torment,

screaming to be released from my body.

It was a painful death.

Those tortured aspects of self.  Her hands held mine.

No words came

from either of us.

I rolled back into my sleep.

Moments ago

I was unsure

if I would ever make it out.

I was lost in the depths

of something that was not entirely mine.

A Sunday Purge.

Not my intention for the afternoon.  Yet up from my depths it came.

As black leathery talons slashed holes

in my well structured identity

until crimson blood

putrid with the stench of

haughtiness had pooled.

Ha!

To think I had escaped my own darkness.  It wasn’t until I was bled dry

that her hands came.

Gentle they were.

A golden thread mending.

I had surrendered.

On my knees. Begging for mercy,

begging for reprieve,

my will

in exchange for my sanity.  She had brought her prayers with her.

An unspoken force.

Gently waking me from

my deep darkness.

Cradling me in the light

of her loving devotion.  It was a queer feeling

— Have you ever felt someone praying for you?

Calling you home.

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