Not too deep within our skin, seamless stuff we’ve all taken in.
Things that made you, made me, and these bystanders between.
I mean, we all have dents and scratches, strains to surmount,
We just don’t know how, they’ll work themselves out.
Little impressions become expressions, like the mess I made in the second grade.
At our store, stuck my thumb, one by one, red ripe tomatoes, oh the fun!
Why did I do it? “What have you done?”
My moment of truth, my lies had begun.
(Stay tuned as the saga continues tomorrow!...Some Bat time, same Bat channel!)
I like this, though I can't imagine being the guy with thumbs in tomatoes. I've my own business though.
ReplyDeleteRemembering the first time you lied in this fashion. I don't have that but I do remember how I learned to hate. Since that was my mother and father and me in the fourth grade, I didn't have a way to express it and had to keep it a secret. Even more, I didn't understand the feeling or what it meant. In this way I know there are feelings that have no words. I doubt there will ever be a time when all my feelings are open to discussion.
I was about 3rd grade, I worked sacking potatoes and things at our family corner store.
ReplyDeleteWhat possessed me to do it I dont know, but once I started, I could stop myself, and hit each one.
I like memories like this, imagining what is in my personality now that led me to do that then.
I know what you mean about the no words for it. I find words very limiting at times, I feel constrained by them.
Thanks for sharing...Ron