Your voice wants to be held. Close tucked into the palm of my ear and bent like crooked fingers curling, you smolder. Burnt notes crackle. You are the tip of an unfiltered cigarette. You ash where others breathe. When my hand opens, you’re caught, finger fried in the molding of what wants to be said and what slips behind. Forever binding, you fall in between the cracks of my hearing. Softer words were never said.
Photo by: Tom Haynes
http://www.TheDrabble.wordpress.com
There was once a man who had all the authority in the world, but no one to talk to. He traveled far and wide across the country in search of a friend, but to his despair, found none.
He talked to the woman with the pretty green and white skirt. But when she saw him, done up in his police outfit, she was too scared to say hello.
He talked to the children sitting outside of a school playground. But when they saw his erect posture, they knew he was no one to mess around with. They too were too scared to say hello.
Finally one afternoon the man with authority talked to a salesman at a corner market off the side of a busy road.
“Would you like these magical beads? If you rub them between your fingers and make a wish, it will come true.”
“How much are they?” The policeman asked skeptically.
“Twenty dollars. They are good luck.”
Reluctantly, the policeman paid for the beads and rolled them across his fingers one at a time. I wish I had friends. I wish I had friends. I wish I had friends. He chanted silently. Ten minutes passed and nothing happened. Fifteen minutes passed and still nothing. After a half hour, the man felt stupid waiting on the side of the road.
After forty five minutes, the salesman smiled and asked him if he would like to go for a walk.
“It’s such a beautiful day out. We must enjoy it.”
“No, no,” the man said quickly. “You cheated me with these faulty beads. I have no choice but to arrest you.”
The policeman walked to his car, fishing out a pair of shiny silver handcuffs. When he returned, the salesman was nowhere to be found. Just like much of his life, the policeman found himself standing alone.
http://www.cnn.com/2015/04/30/us/nationwide-freddie-gray-protests/
Object Relations 