The Silence Between Moonbeams

The Silence Between Moonbeams

  By Sarah Doughty

  Copyright 2016 Sarah Doughty

 

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

  All Rights Reserved

  Original Poem Attributions:

  Playground - Medium: Crossing Genres

  We Were Infinity - Medium: Crossing Genres; Eyes + Words titled as We Were

 

  Cover design: Sarah Doughty. Cover image copyright Sheswideawake.

  Interior image (full moon) copyright Jeff Doughty.

 

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this ebook, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  https://www.sarahdoughty.com

  Table Of Contents

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Prelude

  Poems I

  Interlude

  Poems II

  Thank You Message

  About The Author

  Discover Other Titles

  Connect With The Author

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  For my amazing supporters and giveaway winners, Addison of @eloquenceofwords; Jacqueline Bird; Cherry of @__got2haveit; for Drishti, from Rohit; Jim of @unbuttoned_denims; Iqra of @thxtm_girl; Mah of @emotionally.inconstant; Sam Azura Mirza of @s.a.m.irza; and Uzair Mohammed of @uzair_cr_1071 — thank you.

  Introduction:

  Full Moon

  For someone like me, the sheer existence of the moon is something to appreciate. In fact, many behold the moon with extreme significance because they see her as a spiritual essence and a way to connect with the universe.

  The moon is one of those infinite beauties, glowing in its pale blue light, that I'll never grow tired of seeing. She's seen it all — my life. The bad, the good. And she's my constant. Of all the things that have and will come and go, and despite my fear of the night, she remains. On the plus side, her light doesn't hurt my eyes when I look up at her.

  Even though I'm in constant pain and anguish, I will always be one of those people that look upon her face with a smile in my heart.

  Raymond Carver wrote something in an anthology called What We Talk About When We Talk About Love that I would like to share with you:

  "I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone’s heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moved, not even when the room went dark."

  There was something about that line, that last line of a story that stuck with me. Every reader has felt it.

  It was that breath you take right after finishing the last line, or when you've seen the screen go black just before the credits roll. It's that moment when you know you've reached the end of something meaningful, when a sense of peace washes over you.

  I haven't known peace like that in a very long time.

  Though this chapbook probably won't have that effect on you, I hope it does. Someone should be able to feel it.

  The Girl That Lost Everything

  **Trigger Warning**

  For those of you with PTSD stemming from abuse, proceed reading this introduction with caution.

  When I was young, my innocence was stolen. Not once, not twice, but every night. Every night we were under the same roof until I reached my teens.

  Though luckily, after I was about eight, he left my mother and I was only subjected to the physical parts of his abuse when I saw him on weekends.

  He was my first kiss, my first glimpse at a man's desire. He was my first everything while I was only a toddler. I still hold all that tension from the way he would force himself into my mouth and my body.

  I have nightmares when I dream, and I relive each moment with him, like they just happened. I remember the torture. I remember all the things he said to me.

  Everything he said in those long nights beneath the moonlight were meant to cut me down. He made me believe in everything he said. And I believed every word of it.

  I am nothing. I'll never be anything. Never have talent. Never be loved. I would forever be his.

  His threats were carefully constructed so I would never speak of them to anyone. Not just for fear of what he'd do to me, but what he would do to the people I loved.

  Every night, he took his time, first with his fists, and then his lust. After a while, I tried to be what he wanted, as if wanting him might spare me some pain.

  It's hard to quantify the amount of guilt I have over my actions. But I lacked any other way to protect myself. It was my only option.

  Sometimes it worked and the pain was less, but mostly, it failed. And every night I endured, even though it was often that I hoped he wouldn't let me live.

  But I survived. And I have no choice but to live with what happened.

  He's been dead over ten years, and I still can't push him out of my mind. I don't just suffer from debilitating migraines, constant headaches, depression, and anxiety so bad I can't sleep or be out of my house at night, I have what is called Complex PTSD.

  This is the result of being raised to fear someone who should have been my protector. This is the result of all that trauma. Over a decade of the worst of the imaginable, and nearly another filled with whatever he could take from me before his death.

  Every day, I try to overcome it. I push back and do things I was assured I could never accomplish.

  I have a husband and son that love me more than words can express.

  And I have this.

  Writing.

  Words.

  I don't just love to write. I need to. Every day, I get out of bed, even though I want nothing more than to stare at the ceiling. I want to prove him wrong.

  So that's what I do. That's what I will always do. Even though chances are I'll never be a normal person — functional, unafraid, and capable — at least I can say I've proved him wrong.

  With every word I write, I take his power away.

  He didn't ruin me completely. Slowly, I'm taking back what he stole from me. I can't take my childhood back. I can't think back without finding something tainted by him. But I keep going. And for that, he didn't win.

  That's why I'll never stop.

  Stardust I

  The twinkling stars combined with the moon's soft blue glow is nothing short of beautiful. Look up at the skies on those clear, crisp autumn nights. Smell the wood smoke in the air and watch leaves turn fiery. You'll feel it too. If you look closely enough, you can see the freckles of your own stardust reflected back at you.

  Constellations

  Infinite

  constellations

  swirl within my eyes.

  Why can’t you

  see them?

  See me?

  I See

  When I look into your eyes,

  I don't just see constellations

  and stardust. I see time —

  the past, present, and future

  written within them.

  I see poetry.

  Supernova

  Your tongue moved

  in time with your body,

  increasing the tempo

  of my pulsating heart.

  I didn't just see stars

  behind my eyes.

  They went supernova.

  Look Up

  Look up and take a look into the clear night
sky. Can you see the twinkling stars billions of miles away? Feel that bitter chill on the breeze, winter coming in your bones? Can you feel me there? Look up. I’m right next to you, gazing at the same starlight, feeling the same chill. The same pull of time. I’m right there, and yet you don’t know. Because I am those things. I am there. In space, the air, I'm in your bones. Look up. I’m there, even though you don’t know it. You’re not alone. Never alone. Look up. Can you see me? I’m everywhere. You just need to see me. And know you’ll be alright. Look up.

  Drift Away

  Blanket me in stardust

  and let me drift away

  with nothing to hold me back.

  Not even gravity.

  Photosynthesized

  That black rose

  opening at midnight,

  photosynthesized

  by the moon,

  is me.

  Shooting Stars

  We were fated

  like shooting stars

  with a gravitational pull

  always meant to collide.

  Night Drive

  My dreams took me on a night drive, with the moon's glow shining from above and thousands of fireflies surrounding me. I thought they were starbursts passing through my outstretched fingers. When I awoke, it was with a smile.

  Galaxy

  It's so much harder trying to fit in. To make people think you're okay, when you're anything but. Yet, the hurt grips us. The pain of love lost, trust broken, and time wasted, just trying to live. We're just existing in this galaxy, within an infinite universe. If we were gone, who would notice?

  Would anyone care?

  Illuminated

  Stars twinkling, dancing together like fireflies, illuminate the night in a hazy pink light from a far off place. Vivid and real, touchable and infinite. Nights of beauty, lost in time and space.

  What Can I Do?

  What can I do when the darkness of oblivion surrounds me, when not even the stars or the moon can penetrate its inky surface that coats me like oil? When I am trapped, all I have left is my mind and the demons that linger, whispering to me. I rage against that darkness, and fight with everything I am. My fingers begin bleeding with ink. Then I begin to see those infinite twinkling stars, and watch as those soothing moonbeams wash it all away. That is the power of the universe, the power of words and imagination. That, my friends, is when I find the light.

  Remember

  Remember all those nights you looked at the moon and asked if your world would be alright? Even though you heard silence, she answered with her warm smile.

  Her Peace

  There’s something about gazing into the infinite expanse of the sea. But not just anytime. There’s a magic in the dark of night with gentle waves illuminated by a full moon. It’s a feeling of going home, when the eyes focus on that little strip of light, fading off into the distance. That’s the power of the pale blue glow of the moon shining on the waves. Whenever you feel lost, just look at her beautiful face in the sky and what she illuminates beneath her. If you’re lucky enough to look out into the ocean at the same time, you’ll know what peace feels like.

  Nebulae

  I fell into the crescent

  of your arms,

  you bathed me in stars,

  and we slept atop

  nebulae in our

  luminescent dreams.

  Zodiac

  We were a zodiac

  written in the stars

  and I felt it through

  every cell in my body.

  It was like we were

  made for each other.

  Dance Some More

  When we’re together,

  nothing else matters

  but the music in our hearts

  and the laughter in our souls.

  Let’s paint the stars

  with our fingertips,

  build our homes of poetry,

  and then dance some more.

  Canvas

  The universe is my canvas

  and I paint the stars

  with the shattered remains

  of my broken soul.

  Stardust II

  Twinkling stardust

  reflected from the glassy

  surface of your eyes

  and shimmered up at the

  pale blue moon.

  It Is Written

  The past isn’t just

  written in the stars,

  it’s written in our souls.

  Collector

  He collected hearts

  like galaxies gathered lost

  planets, moons, and stars.

  Burning Twilight

  Life fades like the setting sun, burning for a fleeting moment before bleeding away into night. Living forever in twilight with a full moon always at your back, sounds like heaven to me. Run free, feel the wind upon your face, and never forget to howl at the moon.

  In Your Eyes

  I saw stars

  in your eyes

  every time

  and I knew

  I never wanted

  to look away.

  Luminance

  Paint my dreams with starshine

  and we'll dance with constellations

  until the sun's luminance awakens us.

  Bared And Shrouded

  Strip me down,

  bleach my bones,

  and let the moon

  be my shroud.

  Interlude:

  Moonbeams