My Honor
Each step upon those attic stairs took me closer
to mesmerizing clouds of sandalwood and jasmine
that lingered in the musty air of a dark, foreboding room
that certainly held more than just my secrets.
Candles burned unevenly on wax-encrusted wicks.
The ashtrays placed strategically,
no need to empty one.
A picture frame and loose photos lay beneath the dust.
My altar held all of this and became a witness
to the destruction of my soul.
And, on those stairs, in between my room and the attic,
I swear, my honor slipped away.
The power of a soul to regenerate itself offers us
a second chance with which we're faced with
brand new choices in the same cold world.
And time gives us the luxury of being able to forget
and continue on carrying invisible scars that only
rarely get noticed, but do serve as a cruel reminder.
The front stoop was always good for thinking.
Reflecting on the static between the trees in the woods behind the house.
I never meant to cause such distemperedness.
A deranged condition, I couldn't see that I caused.
All the while, those ghosts fed off of me.
The turbulence got worse around a time of
white-covered rooftops and a high gas bill.
The psychotic shrieks of the cat in a corner of the bathroom
confirmed that it was evil I was facing.
And so I tipped the bottle and feigned a smile.
Because I knew I lost my honor long before that day.
A trip to the church, then a stop at the hospital
impacted the perceptions held by the eyes looking on.
Behold! What they see matches an idea of what should be
and suddenly they hand you your honor back.
All this time I've lived without honor and
according to them, I've earned it's return.
Lift the dark heavy storm clouds and
slide down the rainbow that awaits.
Their masks have smiles I emulate
and together we sit and wait.
The day has now come and those eyes are
once again, keen to what they see that shouldn't be.
A realization has not yet hit,
that the honor I was granted was based on the same
abhorrent dishonor that has come to light today.
Why should I be concerned with this honor,
when it's they who decide when to give it and take it away?
Now I find my own honor
completely outside of them everyday.
Copyright © Nadia Lelutiu | Year Posted 2007
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