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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Psychology · #202801
Forced to face my own abusive tendencies and the guilt before seeing my children again
Eyes closed
I stand at the edge of the crevasse;
A chill wind blows from it's icy bowels;
A hot sun warms the back of my hair.

Eyes closed
I step forward, my foot falling into emptiness;
A chill wind freezes the fear in my heart;
The warmth of the sun disappears.

Eyes closed
I frantically grab for that which will slow my fall;
The frozen depths offer nothing to ease my passage;
The sun shines not into these depths.

Eyes closed
I cry out as I hit a slope, bounce, and slide
not gently, to an icy bottom;
A faint far away speck of light I see dimly above.

Eyes opened
In panic to witness the depths to which I have fallen;
A cold darkness, empty but for sound forbidding, welcomes;
The warmth from above stabs briefly downward but fades, unfelt.

Eyes opened
I can hear their fear full cries in my frozen memories;
My selfish cries are quieted to stunned silence;
Within a ray of light entices and thaws my inaction.

Eyes open
I begin to climb from the frozen anguish of my life;
Old habits numb my efforts and slow my progress;
But the sun entices with rays of caring warmth.

With eyes opened
I have a long and difficult climb
Facing and owning my guilt and losses and letting go anger
Before I reach again a promised warmth
Of another sunny hillside

Originally written: August 1990
Revised: 14 July 2001

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