Long Distance Lullaby

Where are you in this world? Are you in a war torn land, alone and wondering if anyone knows you are out there? Don’t worry- I know you are there. And I care that you are there. I want you to know that I am here, knowing you are there.

What are you looking at now? (besides the computer screen, of course…) Is the fridge empty? If you have a refridgerator, that is… I hope it has something in it for you to eat. Sometimes when I am afraid, lonely, or sad, I eat. Maybe a piece of toast, a cup of tea. You could pretend I am sitting there with you, on a normal day, two friends just chatting and having a cup of tea. We would not even have to talk, really. Just sitting together is nice.

Do you have a window to look outside? Maybe a wee patch of sky to see? Some blue, I hope, and a puffy white cloud. If the sky isn’t visible, or doesn’t look happy, you can share mine. (Although it is night here right now.) as we sit quietly, having our tea, I could describe a nice sky to you. I saw a pretty one this evening, soft pinks and  lavender as the sun set. I see you like to take photos- is that your husband in that one?

Oh, your son?  My, is he ever handsome! He’s a soldier in the war! Wow, you must worry constantly! I’m sorry- what a stupid thing to say…um…You don’t look old enough to have a son so grown up. No, really, you look fine. I don’t use much make-up anymore either, but I know you can’t get any where you are. If you were here I would share mine with you, and we could brush each other’s hair. I always find that to be so comforting.

No, I don’t have anyone to brush mine either, I’m divorced. Yeah, he was a bad man, he beat me. Oh, your daughter’s husband is like that? That is too bad. What! He killed her?!

Oh, man, that is terrible- I am so sorry for you. I did not know that went on in your country- and they did not even arrest him? Oh, I don’t know what to say. No, I didn’t know. Let’s just sit, I won’t bring it up. Here, let me hold your hand. It’s ok… there, there…

Me, kids? Oh, no, I don’t have any- wasn’t “in the cards” as they say… No, I wanted them. The truth is I couldn’t have children, no I had an abortion when I was 15.

Please don’t look at me like that- I was too young to understand. And I was abused, sexually, for years… No, it’s alright, I’m not offended.

So, have you had to live alone for long? You husband was killed in the uprising 10 years ago? Oh, my goodness, you really have had a hard time. I understand. You must be so lonely… It’s alright, go ahead and cry- I’m sad and lonely too.. see, now I’m crying!! We can wipe away each others tears, long distance!! No, it’s ok- you don’t have to apologize. Grief can be shared. Let it go, just let all the tears come. It is cathartic, and cleansing.

I’m still here, I haven’t gone anywhere. I will play some soothing music for you- to drown out the sound of the gunfire. Maybe then you could rest a little. That’s good, just shut your eyes a while. I will be here when you wake up.

See, this way I’m not alone either! Goodnight now, my friend. Don’t worry, everything is going to be alright. When you wake up it will be right again, good again. I will be right here, watching out for you…

Shhhh….shhhh……I will be right here.

Author: ST Martin

I am an Artist, Poet and Author. A Survivor of Violent Sexual Abuse and Rape, I have lived thru Severe Domestic Violence, Twenty Three years of Addiction and Alcoholism, Family Dysfunction, Chronic Pain, Dependence on Opioids, and 2 Venomous Snake Bites...I have Been Stabbed, Shot at, Tied to a Tree and Choked Unconscious. A Quarter Horse Rolled on Me, as did a Lawn Tractor. I also Wrecked a Harley into a Tree! I also have PTSD and Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder, and spent my 18th birthday in a Locked Psychiatric Ward. I am so much more than this: I feel like a tiny seed that sprouted in a desert, and now has grown into a Passion Vine. My Art is my Voice, Screaming, Crying, Praying, Loving, Laughing, Healing- all in Riotous Color...

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