1. Is it really? Is it so? A far cry from beginning, a far distance from life led. Where now? In the depths of a life torn or broken? Where is it and how has it come to be so? A riddle and a far cry from the start. Hopefully and perhaps a far cry from the finish. But still much closer than it once was.

2. To speak in ways unknown to another. To love, to hope, to be, in ways unknown by any other. What to expect but live alone, exist alone, die alone? Wanting to be as is without the additions of a life caved in, surrounded by, closed in, sealed shut, boxed, barred, limited and bordered on all sides by those of the Other. What does it mean to be free, to live free, to die free of it all? Is it possible? Such things, such truths, such knowledge, they are a far cry. Indeed, a far fetched and distant cry.

3. So then how? And why, who, what, and where? What is the element being searched for? Is there a key? Is there a lock and door? Or guts flayed and gaping like a shark speared by harpoon? To be cleaned an eaten? To be stolen and sold? To be exploited and taken advantage of? Is it so? Those who know ask, "What is wrong with you?" As if there is some abyss between the two. As if the world is less valid, perhaps less human. As if the mind is less functional or less purposed. "What is wrong with you?" The answer is a far cry from it, indeed.

4. So here then, an utter disappoint, despair, and compromise. Cheat and thief, brat and broker of hurt and lies and wounds and such. Is it marvelous? Is it fanciful. Moving words in hopes that someone might hear, might see, might grasp the concept. "To find one of those denomination. To find one or two out there. Those who have seemed so non-existent, staunch, and stoic, still, and submerged. The schizophrenic, manic-depressive, control clinging, pedi suffering, abuse hoarding sort. The one who is lost, the one who is broken. The one who is needing but can't find anyone to give. Who, what, where and why are you? Is your mother gone? Is your family hurtful? Is your faith failing, and your life crumbling. Did you learn to live? Did you hear of your worth? Are you more than a maggot, a fly, some manure? The deep schism of inquiry separates mind from body, yet no one grasps the concept. "What is wrong with you?" They ask. "I don't know." Looking for some sort, even one. Where? Tis a far cry from indeed.

5. So then it is lost. Not knowing what to look for, nor knowing where to go. Not knowing where it started, nor anything about where to end. It has been sent to hunt but no one has disclosed what for. Only stunned, even confused. Lost in a drift. A far cry from what they've thought, a far cry from what they've hoped.

6. She never expounded upon where it should go, or what it should do. They never said, yes this or no that. There was never a qualification or an ultimatum. Accept what is, no option to bring about the ought. How can it be then, this and now? What ought is there? A far cry from what can be conjured, a far cry from what has come to be known. Apparently it exists, ought exists. Far be it from me. Tis a far cry indeed.

7.