©KeenEvenings

Jules Julia Julie Maria Manicotti Marie

The Ghost of my childhood
Crawls through the walls of my skull,
Wailing out her pitchy cry-sob of a voice;
My ears ring and I shiver unconsciously.

A moody child, she was,
Hair longer than her own patience,
Learning from her parents’ arguments.
Headstrong as she was she knew not
How to be Human

As a shell of a girl of a boy, she knew
How to Fake
How to create Strength
Based in Fear
How to Please
and Follow Rules
But not how to be Real

She knew things were Wrong,
But not knowing consumed her.
It was only once he showed up,
that she understood what she was:
A caterpillar to his Butterfly.

She was trapped in a cocoon
Her form made no more,
A relief that should be final, sealing.

Her memory, her legacy, haunts me,
As others demand her presence,
When I know she just wants to rest.
She knows I am honoring her memory
Every time I breathe a happy Breath,
As she could not do what I can now.

She knows that I am our True form,
One could never exist without once having the other,
But neither can fully exist together at one Time.
So is life; we lose, we create, we change.
So it is, that he comes to as she falls unconscious.