Illianna Wolfsong Posted June 9, 2003 Report Posted June 9, 2003 I need to give you some background so that you understand the prose below. My youngest son has a disorder called "Intermittent Explosive Disorder". He is unable to "turn off" anger as other people do. To him, all events that cause anger have the potential to escalate into violent attacks. The majority of us have a chemical switch inside our brains that tells us how upset to become in any given circumstance. It tells us when we should react with a sigh, or when it is necessary to use deadly force. If someone were to spill hot coffee on you accidentally, you would react. It would be natural. Odds are, your reaction would be limited to an exclamation, perhaps a comment made too hastily, and maybe even a demand to pay your dry-cleaning bill. If someone were to break into your home and hold a family member at knife point, you would react. Your reaction would not be thought too extreme if you severely injured, or even killed the intruder. This is your switch. My son lacks that switch. Ryan He is but a small child. In stillness, he is pure beauty. His eyes luminous, His face angelic. He has the small round cheeks Reminiscent of his infancy. Soft blush-kissed skin and Tiny hands that look so vulnerable. How could you know to look at him? In his few years of life He has already mastered cruelty. Such violence, such rage. - - - - - - - - - - He is a battle being waged. A small heart of pure gold Wanting to love. He is pure charisma and life. He is a battle being waged. Unchecked fury That his mind can't stifle. He is harsh and hurtful. His mother's arms bundle him In loving embrace. Playfully, joyously Celebrating her treasure. His mother's arms bundle him Trying to stop him. Attempting to hold back The wild kicking legs and flying fists. He is intelligence beyond his years Telling stories with Tolstoyesque details. He builds elaborate cities In words and in children's toys. He is intelligence beyond his years Manipulating people as chess pawns. Designing elaborate schemes To injure and destroy. His mother's face intense With love and hope. She dreams of his future And see's unlimited potential to create. His mother's face intense With fearful dread. She winces at thoughts of his future And see's unlimited potential to abuse. - - - - - - - - - - How could you know to look at him? That he is as two people One infectious of spirit The other, terrifying in viciousness. He has the brawny muscularity Hinting at his future physique. Pure strength compounded With enormous will. He is but a small child. Freed by nurturing love Held captive by a burdened mind His future uncertain.
Ayshela Posted June 9, 2003 Report Posted June 9, 2003 wow. you make the duality of it vividly clear.
WrenWind Posted June 9, 2003 Report Posted June 9, 2003 *Hugs* and lots of them . I have a son who can not always restrain his anger. Though for different reasons. He has lashed out at me in frustration and anger and broken bones in my hand slammed doors so hard that the whole frame has come out of the wall but he is learning to walk away and deal with his rage and not come back out of his room untill he has calmed down. It is good to hear him say "I need five more min" He is 13 now and is trying hard. But still frightening as he is now as tall as me and very strong. Hugs and courage. Your Poem is lovely I have posted this befor but i thought it fits well here too A Gift ----------------- so tiny so perfect to look at every finger a miniature of my own but they say you are different they say you may not live something is wrong behind those beautiful eyes baby in a plastic box looking out through a maze of wires and tubes yet still even so small you smile and coo years later and i look into those same eyes a child in a man's body but still you smile and melt my heart Wren
Sorciere Posted June 9, 2003 Report Posted June 9, 2003 Amazing contrasts you use here, very vivid pictures formed when I read it and you can really sense your daily turmoil. Very well written.
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