CRIMSON TEARS
Nicole Thomas
Published by Nicole Thomas
Copyright 2011 Nicole Thomas
Smashwords Edition
Cover design © 2011 Nicole Thomas
Original Cover Photograph © 2009 Mariix-stock
http://mariix-stock.deviantart.com/
Crimson Tears isn’t meant
to be read page by page,
from beginning to end. It’s
written in such a way that
you can begin reading it on
the page you open it up to.
This collection’s written not only
to help me in my healing process, but
to help others as well. May
it become a silent resolve
as you walk along your own
path of healing.
Grow stronger...look ahead,
be proud of who you are,
...and who you’ll become.
Journal Entry 1
Not sure why I expect so many to come close to understanding my fears and anxieties. They’re hard to explain to those unseasoned to these feelings and frustrating for me to fight on my own. For so long I’ve denied the help I’ve been in need of. These feelings and reactions affect me as well as those I care for.
I can be so happy sometimes, but how quickly I can fall once these feelings return. I feel as though everyone knows...mocking me behind my back for being so weak—so troubled. They see the scars, the shadows and the dreams that haunt me. I’m ashamed of myself and am unable to rid myself of the filth I feel, ever present.
When did I lose myself? When did I fall? I watch myself dying from my past. A past I cannot forget. It was only me out there, no one else around to hear my cries or my pain.
Now I wonder how much of my own story, how many of my
memories, I truly believe. None of it came from a dream. I can feel the pain, my helplessness. I even hear voices sometimes—his voice. I fear what’s outside my room, the bathroom and our front door. Always afraid of who might be watching, waiting for me to leave my safe zone.
I was a victim. I still am to a degree. I’m a victim to my fears of
going outside, away from the security of my family and the protective embrace of my love. I’m helpless and feel worthless when my anxiety hits. I feel as though I’m a burden to those around me, in most cases I am. Misunderstanding or not.
Crimson Tears
Crimson
petals
dappled with tears—
Small hands
muffle a child's
whimper.
Red rose—
wilts on closed doors.
Darkly
dressed...
his silence meets everlasting sleep.
Age
nine—
alone and confused, she cries.
All that’s left
is
for her to whisper goodnight.
Love
you Daddy
Lost...Not Forgotten
Like feathers on a warm breeze
your call comes to me.
Out of the shadows—
back into my heart...
Together, beside me,
our paths to never part.
Welcome Home
Open World
Heavy
pain—
it’s clear to see
all that I’ve lost
never to
find again.
Tears overflowing—
I cry to him
in
silence—
stilled by a breath of wind.
Inner
doubt opens
to
times of reason.
Are these my memories—
memories of what should’ve been?
Answers never spoken,
my mind’s filled with questions.
Things best not to ask,
leaving
me to think of you.
Dedicated
to Richard Allen Thomas. Loving father, compassionate hunter, mentor
and student alike.
Look For Me
Look
for me there
in the northern part of the sky.
I shall be
surrounded by crystals—
light floating on the wind.
Look
for me there
beyond the mountains to the east.
I wait in a
cradle of stone—
littered with evergreens.
Look for me
there
beside the silver moon.
Engulfed in an explosion of
stars—
as they blanket the night sky.
Look for me there
past the western horizon.
Far beyond sights of sights—
to
where I rest.
Look for me there
deep from within.
With
you always—
so long as you remember me.
Journey of a Tear
Silent
tears
suppressed in vain,
the fountain fills
as thoughts
turn to pain.
Eyes
well over
as my vision blurs,
time for release
to a truth
so absurd.
A
single drop escapes
as it gently burns the heart,
slowly down
the cheek
a journey has to start.
To
begin the cleansing
I open my mind,
to wash away the anguish
that I hope will end in time.
Falling
off the cheek
without a sound,
memories of a tear
kiss the
ground.
Journal Entry 2
I remember that day as if time itself had frozen under a layer of jagged ice. I was only nine at the time. It seems so long ago when I think about it. Even with as much time that’s passed, it still leaves an empty feeling in my heart and a surreal feeling around my mind. Perhaps it was just my childish mind protecting me. I didn’t cry. Some call it shock, but I feel it was my own inner
being that protected me.
It was a freak accident; there was no other valid explanation.
He wasn’t supposed to leave that soon. He promised that we would always be together and that he would be there to protect me; to see me get married. What once was a little girl’s dream ...shattered by what happened that summer.
I still miss him each day and wonder what if? What if he were still alive? Would I be living in the same place? Would I have the same friends? The same job? Would I have a different kind of
relationship with the rest of my family? Would I have taken on any bad habits?
Questions I ask more often than I’d like to admit, and for what? I’m happy with how things are, so why keep reflecting...
wondering? Is it just the empty feeling that’s left inside? Is it the fear that someone will try to replace him; try to fill in that dark, empty void?
No, I could never forget. No matter how much time passes. I’ll always remember our walks, the mountainous heaps of ice cream, being comforted at night from bad dreams...I’ll always remember being Daddy’s little girl.
Sharing Darkness
Ink
to paper,
dry growth
takes a turn,
aflame with my fire.
Venomous truth on my tongue,
I spill my words over—
words
others don’t care to see or to know,
Still, darkness slips out
and into the open.
Clearing of ash and dirt,
ground still
hot with embers,
I show the darkness
that we endure—
that
which we've created.
Shattered
Heavy
footfalls
thunder behind me,
running in the night.
My
heart;
lost somewhere
within my chest.
Unable
to breathe,
I
struggle to scream;
my mind welling with regret.
Something
changed inside of him.
Angry and on the hunt,
I’d become
another form of prey.
Thrown to the ground
he whispers
darkness to me,
penetrating my innocence.
Silence broken
by red fire—
I realize his act and cry.
Body—torn and
broken.
Left
there for the dead—
for the night to do as it will,
I gather
my innocence now strewn upon the earth.
My body, shattered
like glass—
I collect the small pieces.
Deeply wounded,
hands turned red.
I carry my body in shaking arms,
holding
the small pieces close to my heart,
hiding them from sight...I
take them home.
Hide It
Their sights were on me
as I ran in the front door.
They glared at me
when I climbed up the stairs.
My head felt fuzzy
as if it wasn’t there.
Legs made from putty,
I was barely able to walk.
Fear deep in my chest
a fear of recognition,
a flood of questions
suffocating me.
I wanted to hide
or to burrow underground.
Seclusion from everyone and
no need for explanation.
This cannot be happening,
It did not happen.
Grabbing some spare clothing
I closed the bathroom door.
Hiding myself away—
away from their questions.
My heart jumped at every sound
like a frightened rabbit.
Heavy footfalls passed the bathroom,
heading past me and up the stairs.
He’s home...
Cannot let him see me.