Whisper Me This

by Kerry Anne King

Whisper me this, my darling, my love The song of the moonlight, of stars up above. Whisper me truth, love, and whisper me lies, Warm days of winter, cold summer skies. Whisper me anger, whisper me rain, Whisper me flowers, then whisper me pain. When I come to die, love, then whisper me this The shape of a memory, the truth of a kiss. Whisper me, whisper me, whisper me this A lifetime of memories, and one final kiss.

Time for me is not linear. It flows in random loops and swirls, and sometimes in huge, incomprehensible leaps.

But I am not brave, and I have never been strong enough to carry the weight of my mother’s ambitions and expectations, to bear the brunt of her obsessive love.

We need food and shelter first, before we need anything else, because without those things we will die. Then we need people to love. Once we have people to love, then we can learn to love ourselves and start working toward the things we are good at, the things that make us happy.”

It wasn’t my fault that he hit me. His anger is not my fault. I am not responsible for his behavior, then or now.

It’s funny how life spins, how we go on for long stretches of time and nothing changes, and then all at once, in a single moment, everything is altered.

“All the things you did wrong, you did exactly right.”