yesterday, today, tomorrow

Yesterday
the sun never shone,
never emerged from behind the clouds,
hell, I don’t even know if it was there.
I existed in darkness.
I cannot say I lived in darkness
for I barely felt alive.
I just was.
Weights wrapped tight around my ankles
and a boulder on my chest
kept me in the darkness,
not that I wanted to leave, anyway.
What is the point of all this?

Today
I felt the sun penetrating my skin
while my eyes remained closed in sleep.
I see no clouds in the sky,
just the sun
beaming down on everything, and me.
I still feel the boulder
but my ankles move free
and I marvel at this gift of life
and light.

Tomorrow
offers only guesses at the sun’s intentions
and my mind’s interpretation.
I could check the forecast,
anticipate a plan to bring success and light
but it would be all for nothing
as history dictates.

Yesterday
I was handcuffed in the trunk.
Today
I sit in the driver’s seat.
Tomorrow
there could be a flat tire.

Up and down, and side to side
strapped tight into this roller coaster seat
I sit, blindfolded,
holding on to me, for dear life.

All I have,
is me,
now.

the heat and the coolness

If I stand here,
still enough for long enough
and breathe,
I can feel the heat of the sun
penetrating my skin
warming me from the inside out,
I can feel the coolness
of the soft wind brushing
and sliding over me,
I can feel the solid, firm ground
unwavering beneath my feet.

I feel the heat and the coolness
at the same time,
inside and outside
my body.
Open my eyes to be blinded
by the sun
dancing across the water
and a new gust of wind
tousling my hair.

Heartbreakingly beautiful.

weight of concrete

Weights of concrete blocks
attached to my ankles
keep me here.
If I tried to walk
they would break through the floor
pulling me down storeys,
shattering bones
to further impede me from moving
away to anywhere but here.

Gravity pulls my head
down to my ankles
where the concrete absorbs it all
full knowing of its power.
I sacrifice my mind
for my bones,
staying here under the weight of
where it wants me.

In the dense cement,
no room to breathe,
I try to sleep.
At least, maybe then,
I can feel weightless
if just for a moment.

the grass and the dirt

Threading the blades of grass
between my fingers
and toes
picking up small particles of dirt
from the soil beneath
reconnects me to the Earth
grounding
calming me back to centre.

This, right here,
is all I have.
Everything I see and think in my mind
are not here with me.
Only the grass and the dirt
are.

 

 

river current

You were the river
eroding shorelines
constantly flowing.

I believed
I could stand on the sandbar
in the middle
and you wouldn’t hurt me.

You swept me up
and into the current
proving how helpless
I was all along.