Carried me through the rain, when I’ve been lost, along the wilderness highways, grabbing ice cream to get a moment away from the shelter that held a dying man.
Drunk they lead me to a church where I lay prostrate and a girl told me to physically purge of all my sins then disappeared. I have arrived and left from my worst, painful, traumatized, hopes, dreams, small hearts and pieces of myself.
Held newborn fingers and hair, smooth out tight muscles, calm a feverish mind and body, felt the coarse cement under my body and the heat that beat down, power through steel and handlebars as I sped away from containment and pain with my bike.
Copying and copying and copying notes way after they are sore so I could graduate with my classmates. My hands allow me to forge stories and create bad art so I have freedom regardless how restrained I may be.
I have always worn glasses since I was young. I could talk about what I have seen aided by glass, plastic and steel, but instead I will mention what I can see with just my eyes. I see a myriad of smudges, colors. Amorphous blobs that glide and speak at times.
I am also a creation of smudges, boundaries blending and swallowing up divisions. I lose things in the smudge, overwhelmed by possibility and assumption. My hands become my eyes gliding over surfaces, spread eagled stretching rubber band praying my fingers don’t lead me astray.
Houses, occludes, shelters and defends my mind. It’s just a structure that becomes more apparent when one seems to be disconnected from it, like in surgery, death or much worse.
My mind, my mind. It is the reason why I am emotional, stubborn, slow to learn social expectations, internalize and whisper, why I scream when I think no one can hear me, sends messages to my heart to bleed tears and dreams. It has the power to plunge me down below the earth outside of my body, desolate and apathetic. It is how I am able to be compassionate, resourceful, judgemental, unforgiving and blind.
Like the ocean, like the drum, rain, sunshine, sunrise and sunset. Completely outside of my ability to control it. It is my life, breath and yet it is not where my soul resides. A muscle really designed to keep blood flowing and energy pumping so I can turn my attention to higher level things.
It, along with the brain, are beyond my understanding and yet they not only exist but demand faith and trust. Trust in cells, mixed into tissues, organs. It is a very humbling thing to consider.
Written for Prompt Night at a Dash of Sunny