January 15, 2022 |

Trust me, I did not wake in beauty 

I woke clinging to mortality 

Tearing away at tentacles holding me captive in a hellish place 

My claws sinking into consciousness dragging me forward into the light

I woke testing my comforts and making convincing arguments to trust reality 

Sifting through new memories 

Weighing the benefits of those I keep 

Pleading to release those I don’t.

I recall murky lakes and a solitary house 

It’s drafty and leaks but it is home 

Those who leave do so by boat 

Leaving promises of return as intangible 

as the fog that took them.

I walk the halls at night afraid 

Finding no trigger for fear 

The house is ideal but uncomfortable 

It is alive.

…

I just traveled from this realm to my childhood bedroom

At night. I was overtaken by fear and this intense need to ugly cry. 

I worried for a moment 

At its momentum 

At drowning in its flood

And I was met with a second me

Older and more knowing.

Sitting down on the bed beside my smaller self 

She wrapped me in a tight embrace 

And I as both she and me 

Cycled between crying and comfort 

Making the space my smaller self never knew possible 

Glorious disbelief, as my younger self spilled years of misunderstandings

Hate and guilt and fear out into this beautiful universe 

They fell with weight casting a fiery glow into the atmosphere 

The younger feared she wouldn’t be able to get it all out 

And the older knew we would be here again together many times 

I rubbed the smaller’s back and swiped away her fallen tangles of hair 

I cheered her on to give it her all 

To let everything free 

I told her I was here 

And would never leave her again 

I told her I knew 

And she didn’t need to fear waking 

For I would be here.

I held her for as long as she needed 

And looking out on the horizons of our space 

I saw more of us stepping forward from the shadows.

I smile to greet them and try to smother my guilt for taking so long to arrive

I can only say for now that we will get to all, somehow 

Their embrace is caring and comfortingly patient but immense and full of power 

It ripples through us all and launches me

Out into my waking form 

Living the wrath bodily 

Needing comfort of her own.

I’m both fearful and proud 

I worry how I will hold on to such an adventure

If this captain’s entry will be enough

I’m replaying their kindness for patience to suffocate the guilt 

And instead planting seeds of pride

For having traveled heroically.