catharsis

I made a room for you in my mind.

I was foolish, I thought you were kind.

I never noticed the knife when you came from behind.

Or the chains on my arms that bind,

Or the cloth over my eyes that blinds.

I remember when I lovingly made a room for you in my mind.

I was wrong, you weren't kind

And when the stars giggled, I found myself bursting into joy again. Such is beauty, such is pain. I always find my way back again.

"A House with No Mirrors"

I live in a house. A house with no mirrors.

What am I hiding from, you may wonder. What is it that I don't want to see?

Is it the way my mother's smile quivers when she's been hurt? Or the violent anger my father's fist holds?

Is it them I'm avoiding? Or… is it me?

Do I hate the curve of my nose, the same nose I share with my father? Or is it the hint of my mother's cheekbones, that I can't stand?

Do I despise the oppressor or pity the victim? Do I…. fear them? Fear becoming them? Or do I fear myself?

Which category do I belong to? Which one am i? A perfect blend of the oppressor and the oppressed. Where do I fit in?

In the broken cracks, where the world forgot, or perhaps, chose to forget, about me because it's so much easier to ignore than accept that there's a gaping flaw in the system. Where at some point, I too forgot the feeling of a warm embrace and loving eyes. And with the broken shards of time, I forgot my own name. Just like I hope to forget my own face.

I look in the mirror. Who am I looking at this time? A monster? Or his slave? Whose face do I see more?

Whichever one it is, I know for a fact that it's not my face that I see but theirs.

Always theirs.

I was cursed from birth. I was cursed to carry the DNA of two contradicting forces. They've blended inside me, melded as one just to create a disgusting mess of weaknesses, insecurities and existential issues. I wouldn't know where I began and they ended, what part of me even belongs to myself.

I had the misfortune to live among thieves. They stole my childhood, my sanity and now my face.

Heads turn away refusing to accept that mistakes were made. I guess I inherited that as well.

I hide away.

In moments of despairing sadness, I see my mother's lifeless smile instead of mine and in moments of rage… well. I don't like to look at that.

I wish I could see my mother's curiously intelligent mind. Or my father's sharp, observing gaze. But…

I live in a house with no mirrors because I'm afraid of what I might see this time.

I fade away.

And all I loved, I loved alone.

I always used to wonder that for how long will we point at ruins and tell ourselves that this is mercy. I thought mercy was supposed to be peaceful. Maybe, I didn't understand mercy at all. I asked myself: What is mercy?

And I realized, there are two types of mercies. The human mercy and the divine mercy. Mercy, my dears, is like fire.

Human mercy is warmth and compassion. It is the fire that warms you, that pushes the chill away during the coldest winter. It is the hand that picks you up after you have fallen and brushes the dust from your knees and tends to your wounds. Human mercy is about healing.

Now, divine mercy, also known as God's/the universe's (etc) mercy, is more complicated. Divine mercy comes in the form of destruction. It is the forest fire that rages and pillages all that is in the way, and you, more often than not, believe it is the end. But, the forest fire is necessary for the forest, despite the initial destruction. That we must admit. That fire cleanses. It nourishes the soil, it is extremely beneficial for the regrowth of stronger, newer trees and it opens a pathway for the smaller, hidden plants that were overshadowed, to get sunlight as well. It allows for growth, for new beginnings. Divine mercy is about rebirth.