The Fixer

© 1997 G.J. Griffin

I walked through my past last night and everyone was there,
The living and those who’ve passed on, I traced a route through time.
A river lay underfoot like a road map of my history,
inked upon a paper trail, etched in calligraphy
’til it became an empty shore, nostalgia was it’s destiny
It led me to a tiny heart-shaped record of a memory.
A valentine I thought was mine of something I could not perceive.
My father said it wasn’t mine. My mother stood by faithfully.

I am the fixer. I’ll fix everything.
Everything except that which is mine.
Take the elixir. It will kill the pain.
It only made me small then made me blind.

I led them through my old home town announcing each arrival.
Called out their names as they came by. My father would reject them.
He traded my attempts for hopelessness not caring how I’d feel.
My mother stood by faithfully alleviating misery.
I shouldered some unknown responsibility for peace of mind.
The tiny heart-shaped record held a melody so hard to find.
A memory of time when pastry mattered and was wrought from love.
A memory that’s faded now that danced in fragments lost in time.

I am the fixer. I’ll fix everything.
Everything except that which is mine.
Take the elixir. It will kill the pain.
It only made me small and made me blind.

… made me blind
… made me blind
… made me blind.

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