Falling Through

Words weep me
I fall like fat capsules of catastrophe
Down the cheeks of the Mind

I am purified in ways
I never thought I could find
Truths I never thought I would own

But still I am left silent
Still clinginging to the half-chewed bone
A ration meted out to me by Memory

Waking up isn’t always easy
Rewriting our Stories and history
Falling through cracks that appear from Nothing

Charleen Johnston
September 2008

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