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in the middle of the night I wake air heavy with thoughts that are not my own they have come to help me the dead don't sleep and neither can I they stand before me with hands outstretched take our memories and make them your own breathe life into the past we will give you the answers our stories to ease your mind your pain is not what you think it is I sit beside them while the world sleeps they hold my hand to the flames of their soul show me that nothing can burn in the light a man who died in an explosion at a war he didn't want to fight is here because we both have PTSD he can't move on because of his guilt he describes how we are both alike that we are waiting at an airport for our planes to take off but we can't leave the airport a woman can't move on because her sister is still alive and she wants to watch her life unfold she misses her and wishes she knew how much they want me to know that I am their waiting room we are all waiting for something we can support each other they will warn me of things they can see ahead in my life as long as I let them stay until they can move on in their death one man just doesn't know where to go and I point him towards the light where a woman beckons me to come she doesn't want to see me so sad the man thanks me and leaves with her I listen to war stories until dawn I see what the man sees his last bits of life as he watched a bomb explode on a train he was their to protect them and he feels like a failure because he didn't I cry for him and he pats my shoulder tells me my daughter will be ok she has a few of them watching over her too once they move on from the waiting room they visit me in my dreams sometimes they even interrupt a nightmare and wake me up they show me how to manifest things with loving light attention to a thought they whisper kind thoughts upon my awakening and those days are good days they remind me not to forget them or those that follow after them they remind me that whenever I am stuck and waiting there is always a few of them around for support I am getting a few new members right now I welcome them to sit beside me they ask if this is the waiting room I joke and say now we are calling it a support group for lost souls a woman who committed suicide after the death of her only child takes my hand and asks if a little boy has been waiting I tell her he is downstairs and my dogs have been barking at him like crazy for a few weeks everyone in the group forgets there sadness for awhile as we watch them reunite and walk into the light moments like this are always especially healing for the group at dawn they dissipate the veil thickens and I go back to the living
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AuthorMichelle Tinklepaugh Archives
June 2023
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