Bound By Unholy Spirits

Subterfuge

                  Intro

A secret has crept out from behind closed doors. It stepped out of the shadows and showed its ugly face. A familiar face that no one recognizes  as their own.

It is you without your money,

you without your car.

It is you without your makeup,

your title or your scars.

It is you despite the circumstances. Look! Don't you recognise?

It's easy to see yourself in all that you despise.

The reflection of greatness is what we MUST realize

                       1

°Her spirit has rebelled against her in the wee hours just before dawn. Pain throbs in the pit of her stomach and rises up escaping through weary eyes. Her soul has been hiding for way too long. Her heart drips agony like a leaky faucet although consciously she's been unaware. Now that her mind is clogged with all the extra baggage she accumulated over the years, her void is filled to capacity. Truth always overflows and reaches the surface when neglected.  Her spirit has rebelled against her. She's been careless about what she let inside of her self. Today she is aware. Today she knows that her own choices are the reason for this calamity. All along she was so preoccupied with the past and the people who she trusted with her heart; the two people she was supposed to trust all along: her parents. She ran from her own brokeness; suppressed it with weed and liquor, camouflaged it with makeup, jewels, and trendy clothes. Her spirit rebelled against her forcing her to see the brokeness she's been wearing all these years like a scarlet robe. With this realization of weakness she is given life as a part of herself dies.

'I am nothing!'

You are everything.

'I'm so stupid! Always was'

Not you just your thinking

"I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE I'D RATHER DIE!!"

Then DIE and be reborn. Be still. Be calm.

A strange calm comes over her as if she's enveloped in pure nothingness. The internal dialogue stops. The tears dry. Sleep wisks her away.

                        2

ºHER eyes open just enough to see the Sun through the tiny slits of her lids.The glow of mid-morning rays send a path of illumination and warmth through her bedroom window. Her mind still frolicks in a dream world slowly fading. She tries to hold on but battling wakefulness is an exercise in futility. The only thing that lingers from the forgotten fantasy is a feeling of wholeness and a silent voice. A voice that only her spirit could comprehend before, is subtly becoming tangible. The voice calls 'Come to ME now...' like a soft yet powerful wind. '... it is never too late. You are not your flesh you are not your mind. Take ownership of them. Emotions change like the weather let them pass so that you may get back to who you really are. '

She couldn't respond her mind was asleep yet she was aware of her own consciousness. It was too much to take. In that instant the realization jolts her awake: "I am pregnant by the bastard who raped me." She confesses this unfortunate truth out loud, piercing the silence of the empty bedroom as tears pour down her face . She is the embodiment of untamed emotion like a wild storm; thoughts like thunder, pain like lightening and the tears flow loke a monsoon . Remembering that she had some Preparation H in the medicine cabinet, she decides to apply it under her eyes immediately to stop the swelling so she won't need to wear sunglasses  to work. This thought distracts her from the  truth as she tucks away her pain storing it neatly in a box within. She rises from the bed leaving her problems there to rest. Each step brings her further from the baggage as she shifts all of her energy completely in another direction: work. As she prepares to face the world she forgets it all. She becomes another woman. Her name is Maia.