Beatrix
The sound of guns...
The darkness...
The smoke...
Then, oblivion.
Everyday, I am haunted by my nightmares.
Everytime the thunder roll and lightning strikes, I shivered.
Looking outside my window,
I am writing my daily journal and poetry today...
To release all the pains and tensions from my past.
And I wrote..
December 18, 1980
Myshkin, Russia
My beloved,
Have you ever ask yourself...
What's your life purpose?
If..
Are you doing the right thing?
Are you on the verge of confusion, loneliness, unhappiness and being stagnant?
Day dreaming into your own world?
Too much questions filled in your heart and mind.
Too much of everything that you don't want.
Too much!
To clear out my confusion and to have more clarity about myself, I dig deeper inside me.
Reminiscing my childhood moments and cherish them.
Facing the darkest and painful moments of my memories.
Those memories of repeating horror, memories of loss, memories of death.
Yes, I did face it all.
I cried hard.
After decades of those patterned memories...
This is the first time that I realized..
How I treated myself so badly.
And I really wanted to give back to myself.
By appreciating my past.
Appreciate yourself more...
Love yourself more...
And you will discover more...
I have discovered each words, all feelings, expression, harmony just fits well to take steps in writing this poem for my past.
***A LETTER FOR MY PAST SELF***
My dearest self in the past...
I have been visiting you lately in a vast...
You are carefree, immature and FEARLESS,
You go out more, loving the sun and grasses,
Full of sweat and sun-kissed from above.
Joyous days, feet touching stones and green
Oh How glorious those days have been
Flowing like water in every storms within
And wind touches, caressing my skin
Telling me, It's ok dear, everything has it's purpose".
A path full of journey and a dead rose
All those rise and fall, I am with you...
All those tears and laughter, I am with you...
I am always with you til the end of time.
You have no choice, we are both destined.
Oh loving sun and dreamy moon,
Grace us the light in our path divine,
My past self, I thank you!
For the wonderful memories...
In my troubled present, found peace in you.
Beatrix
**********************************************
As I closed my journal...
I just hear my Nana's footsteps and call out.
"My princess, it's dinner time. Don't forget your coat, it's a bit freezing today!."
"Yes, coming Nana!." I checked myself in the mirror for the last time, before sharing the table with Nana.
The beauty in the mirror speaks of simplicity and elegance.
I'm tall at my age of 15, around 183cm, with soft silver wavy hair and emerald green eyes.
I'm looking at the reflection of my mother.
And before my tears fall.
"Beatrix?" A hint of annoyance in Nanas voice.
"Yes, sorry Nana."
Then, we silently eat our beetroot soup.
In the same month, in different year.
Our mother gather all of us, her children, near the fireplace hearth, made of granite and marble stone.
My eldest brother Maxim played the piano while my older sister Annika played the flute. While me and my mom, cheerfully singing.
Then, our beloved father Dimitri, joined us in our joyfulness.
Amidst our liveliness, the commotion outside the House of Oblonsky raised our fears.
People shouting with torches and guns.
My father Dimitri was stunned.
I'm crying in horror.
I hugged my father...for the last time.
When....
My small voice... bellowed "NO!!!!"
"Mama, Papa..."
"Maxim, Annika..."

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