Life…

img_3954

Life,

Its an Ore, how amazing it is that one can not see beyond the fake colours all spread around.

The chirping birds are so beautiful in their tone, yet the loud couple walking past just broke my attention.

I move my attention else where, to find somewhat of relief, the ocean, so calm when it is not storming, yet when those waves get angry they can destruct.

Life, Oh how fascinating..

The forever once lovers, walking hand cupped in hand, how delightful.

The Brain has given us many sensory systems and what hurts the most is the central nervous system seems paralysed

I pick up by dead weighted body and struggle to stand.

I fall once and than take 5 steps, than tumble back 3 steps, gaining only two,

but that only two, is like a mile for me.

Life , Oh how fascinating..

The cool breeze caress my cheeks, makes my body realise it needs to regulate its thermostat, I shrug off the feelings pulling down and hold my head up in pride

It wasn’t easy but I managed and I shall keep doing it

Never giving up

Becoming Resilient

Life, Oh how fascinating

 

– A.P. Ora

The Dark Room

This is a very special piece for me to express the emotions and situation that one can almost never delete from the brain and please do read it as it will hopefully help someone one day. It took me a lot of courage to put this together .

The Dark Room

The dark room

The clock ticked in my brain ,

I’m sure and definite each second was a minute,

Each minute was an hour ,

And each hour was a day,

And each day turned into days.

The dark room

My vision was blur,

In and out of consciousness,

The memory cannot recall anymore.

The drugs didn’t help, legal and illegal.

Mercy was all I could seek for at that very stage.

The dark room

The woman in me,

In fact the human in me died sometime amongst those moments.

Those very moments stripped my soul of life,

Raped my innocence

No light , no air, no hydration nor nutrition,

My body went into Autopilot mode,

Survival instincts kept me breathing and nurturing my body, to keep wishing for the last breathe not to be the last one.

The dark room

Faith had reached it’s toll,

No other thought crossed my central nervous system other than to beg with my voice, that was merely heard.

Or maybe it was never voiced

The dark room

The dark room became home to my soulless body, naked, cold, and bruised, for those days , hours, minutes and seconds.

My bare body was in excruciating pain, almost to the point that the fight flight reaction didn’t even kick in.

Beating after beating,

Negative words, pure evil surrounded me as I lay emotionless , dead to the world.

The dark room

With no life left in me, the Dark room killed the person I was once,

That girl is buried under the grounds of the dark room and she shall never live again.

That very day I Died

In The Dark room

A.P.

MIRRORS # 2

MIRRORS

It’s very surreal,

Reality is not So beautiful ,

Surrealism is the best description.

A smile on the face, is all good and flash.

When someone looks in the mirror , than they see all they are told …..

You are an ugly personally,

You are a lier , and you ate everything else that’s why you don’t deserve anything good.

Insecurity is a very damaging aspect in ones life.

Yes you are insecure but please don’t blame me

The surreal life seems to be so much better,

Sometimes it feels that the face I sight, Is really ugly and not worth anything , yet I try to still smile from my heart to possibly exit Any negative thoughts.

The mirror still doesn’t lie to me

It tells me to ask what you really are deep down inside.

Is your image just an Illusion ?

Look carefully at the mirrored image , and you Will see as honest person that has a clean heart.

But again she is just human

A.P.

World War 1 or was it …

Gunshots so loud it still echos in my reincarnated life,

Each night I see the shots being fired lighting up the night skyline, just like the fireworks do now for the New Year’s Eve.

It’s that very image I jump awake to each night, the silence still echos, screams , machine guns ….

There are many dug out dungeons.

My hair so sleek pinned back in a perfect bun,

The dress pressed to perfection, the collar and cuffs as white as snow,

The choice of material was serge, and held the colour of the sky; blue.

Kerchief wrapped around the head to give the final touch.

I was dressed to precision.

Along side where my helpers , one screamed “Maitron! , I can’t keep this one going”.

The odour of boric acid and sodium hypochlorite so potent till this day, it reminds me of than.

“Let’s just sedate with chloroform!”, I yelled, in hope to keep him going and rest at a lower heart rate.

Blood oozing from many wounds , my sterile apron obviously not sterile anymore.

The camp fire lit very dim, to not attach too much attention.

The opposition are moving in closer each day,

All men sleep deprived and many malnutritioned despite all the volunteers serving the best in such a situation.

My dress tethered, the rain has washed all the blood off my open wound.

I’m breathing so heavily I can almost count each heartbeat in my mind.

I feel the lack of oxygen and I’m clearly hyperventilating.

Will I be able to get back to camp site ?

Who are these men ?

What do they want ?

Do I know something that will caused destruction ?

At the camp I find causality number 112.

After the chloroform had done its job, I sterilised my scalpel on a burning fire,

Cutting away the tissue around the 2 wounds, now hopefully the debridement will keep infection away.

Done !, methylated sprite than soaked the would , causing the casualty nil pain, thank goodness!

I than bring together my sharp tools to seal up the wound.

TBC

A.P.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑