Sunday, November 21, 2010

I know her

I know her.

She with the deep lines gouged across her forehead, dipping to a v between the eyebrows; who wears an expression that vacillates between vacuous indifference and barely contained hostility; whose posture betrays weariness and the guilt of constantly trying to be good; she who craves company but fortifies her loneliness by holding herself back and pushing it away.

You can hear her joyless laughter at her own sorry humor, but she hears only a cry for help. You see pride and defiance, but in her mind she is a crumpled heap buckled under the weight of her burden.

She loves unquestioningly, deeply, and steadfastly. Still she carries a guilt that has no name, no reason.

There she is.

She kneels, not out of respect but from weariness. She clasps her hands together, not in prayer but in surrender.

Alone but for the eyes of the saints boring down on her through the glass cases that hold them. For protection---but whose?

I know her. But it could be worse.

She could be me.

(photo by Rhett de Jesus)


Peter S. said...

I've always love reading your prose, Ajie. It gives me a high. You write so beautifully.

mental wayfarer said...

Thank you.:)

anu said...

such a wonderful post :)

mental wayfarer said...

Thank you, anu!

Sparky 4 Life said...

This is my first time to your post. I was just browsing through and after reading just the first few lines, was compelled to continue. Your writing draws in the reader. Great stuff.

mental wayfarer said...

Thank you, Sparky 4 Life (visited your site--- i must say that's a very witty name)! I hope you find the other entries just as interesting. Drop by again!