Written here are the True events of my life. I should be dead, there is no question, but I am here, I survived it all. I am Joan and I survived on Angels wings so I could write this for You. Blessings, Joan
I should be dead, there is no question, but I am here, I survived it all. I am the only survivor of the slaughter. Words. Letters. Simple vowels and consonants, shaped and molded together to formulate the structure of fears that are my memories. It seems easy, open mouth and speak but my voice gets lost in my heart and silence fills the spaces.
There is such a loneliness in silence yet I find peace within it. The spaces between words are my comfort. The voices around me mumble thoughts, wishes or dreams. Traces of light spin and swirl so fast in my world. My thoughts become scrambled eggs, runny until thinking turns them burnt and black.
How did I come to be, what brought me to this place? Why does rage swallow my heart and incase it deep below the sea? Well, it seems logical to start at the beginning of my creation when I was a simple beam of light. Energy in motion, cells and atoms multiplying to create my beingness. We all began that way, even evil was once beautiful. I don’t remember that far back but I suppose even I was beautiful once.
Angels have carried me and kept me alive, they hold my secrets. Angels know of the slaughter that day, they were there. I could have been an Angel of Secrets; unknown, slaughtered, silenced, but I survived. I am the undead. The Angels hold my memories safe. Why do this, why go back and tell it all…What do I hope to find? Why am I shoved forward to face it, to open my burning eyes and unbury my heart? Thrusted, thrown into the center of the storm, propelled by Angels wings, through energy and space without control. What could be gained by seeing it all again, why unbury the dead? Perhaps forgiveness is what I long for, forgiveness for the self. Forgiveness for each breath I take, forgiveness to allow my heart to beat. The dead walk with me as Angels of Secrets, I am reminded at every turn. I am the only survivor of the slaughter. I am Joan and I survived on Angels wings so I could write this for you.
Love, Joan
Thank you for visiting my page and for for sharing such intimate and painful memories. I have found through the years it is easier to bare ones soul to a stranger than it is a friend. Strangers are less likely to judge you. Your past has shaped you into the woman you are on this day. But do not allow it to define you. Continue writing. One day you will see that you have written away the demons. Love Light and Blessings
Love, light and warm blessings from New Zealand. I have read through your posts with tears in my eyes – so hard to read, and yet so much harder to live through what you have survived. I am in awe of your courage. I wish you dreams of peace and days of love and so much more. I am off now to watch my children sleep and count my (and their) many blessings…