Monday, June 01, 2009

An Alien

It was my experience to befriend a beautiful young woman who, with her group of friends and relatives, worked as Helpers in the newspaper distribution warehouse with me. Her intelligence and innate character were obvious to me. I engaged in every opportunity to encourage her embracing of her natural Gifts. But, with great sadness, I watched her as she sought to mold herself into the roles and behaviors of her family and unfortunate acquaintances. Here I offer my reflections on her struggles … insofar as I was privileged to know them.

I do know, for fact, of her slippage into self abuse (cuttings) … tattoos and piercings that she told me that she really did not want … and ultimately, her pregnancy … all, following in the steps of her peers.

The Alien role is one that I (in my past) knew with painful intimacy. I offer this reflection in the hope that that one ’Someone’ (known only to Life) who reads this … may benefit from knowing, that their suffering, fears, doubts, and struggles, do not go unseen, or uncared about.

An Alien

Alien to all that constitutes her environment …
wanting - no - needing to find a place of comfort.
Plagued by the exceptional capacities
encapsulated within her natural qualities …
she cannot naturally meld,
into the safety of obscure Anonymity.

So she camouflages herself,
with defacements common to those around Her.
She assumes the language, and behaviors,
that conceal her innate endowments.
She avoids all challenges
to the legitimacy of her portrayal …
Most importantly,
challenges borne of her own Awareness.

Unknown to her, the Others find
validation for their behaviors,
in her degradation,
of her appearance and demeanor.
For they all see the extraordinary Gifts,
that are naturally hers.
Making their shared cycles of mimicry,
an endless waste.

Only in still, lone, and quiet,
moments of painful reflection,
does she find herself confronted
with unidentified Frustrations.
As dissatisfaction, and Self loathing
drive her to Self punishment.

Inflicting physical wounds …
tangible, real, and knowable …
for all else is too dark and unknowable.
While these are accepted,
as deserved flagellations.


Suldog said...

Sad stuff, John-Michael, but perhaps your lovely words will find a place in the heart of someone who desperately needs them.

John-Michael said...

From your lips to Heaven's ears, My Dear SulDog Friend.

Love Ya Jim ...

Annette said...

Well hello JM....I love coming by to visit, and your thoughts and words always mean something to me, sometimes I read and reread your thoughts, and so many times I don't leave a comment, just enjoying our time together! I'm sure you made a lovely positive impact on that young lady you worked with, with your friendship and sweet words, some people we just don't forget in life and I believe there's a reason for that. and when you think of someone from the past, they have been put on your mind and in your thoughts for a reason, another thing I believe in. Hugs to you~

Kimberly Drever said...


Your posts and poems are inspiring and so heartfelt. I got a "Lemonade Award" that I'd love to pass on to you for you've inspired me this past year. Hope you get a chance to come visit and accept.


nitebyrd said...

There are so many of the Alien's you describe. At one point in life, I think we all are Aliens. The hope is that we can shed the unfamiliar skin before it becomes too attached.

San said...

An insightful reflection on self-torture. I'm so glad you've moved beyond that "painful intimacy" with the "Alien role." Here's hoping your words will be read by the person who needs them most...

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