There's something in the air.
A milling of energy.
Constancy, warmth, presence.
It's all happening all the time.
I can get into a meditative state quite easily now.
Sometimes I have trouble
but often I can close my eyes and feel weightlessness in my body
I get sleepy with how peaceful I can become.
I begin to feel again like a newborn baby
whose head is too big for its neck
so all it can do is bobble and gurgle and gargle and let out a scream that it doesn't know breaks records.
The family in the apartment next door has a baby and often in the morning,
I wake up to her crying.
I feel a sense of calmness in the fact that I never have to cry like that again.
I can comfort my own feelings
and go for a walk alone
and buy a drink when I'm a little down.
Poor little baby next door doesn't know any of that yet.
Her problems are real and crucial but far from mine
and in that way im pleasantly surprised by how far I've come.
How much I've learned and what I've surpassed and endured.
I was once a snotty sniveling baby who kept my parents up.
Who was picky about food and shy with strangers and each morning when you went to wake me up a little tuft of soft baby bird hair would stick out under the warm duvet.
Sometimes I feel like that little baby when I've woken up
My eyes are puffy and my limbs are warm
and imprinted linen patterns mark my skin.
Sometimes I wish my parents were still the ones to pull the cover down under my eyes
and kiss me on the cheek
and ask me how I slept
and say it's time to get some food into me.
I miss the coziness of being all together taken care of.
Of being the last one to wake up.
The last voice to fill the busy kitchen,
the last one to still be yawning.
Oh to be young and soft and tucked into bed. How I miss it.
I get so worried about forgetting.
I tend to spread my tendrils,
Dropping hints of my thoughts into every conversation, again and again.
Until I've come full circle, and everyone knows everything.
I find it hard to keep sacred things secret.
Is that the purpose of a messenger?
Spread the word and the word is love
or whatever they say.
I'm partial to gloom.
Desperation calls and its silky roots enchant me.
I long to feel into that void of darkness but I'm terrified of falling straight in.
In the dark,
I blindly search for the edge.
To seek it out, feel it, and see if it's still there.
Like a tongue pushing a tooth out of its gums.
Pain comes in lunging.
You can never see it,
it stays in the blind spot.
Over time we learn to turn our heads and look both ways.
But only after the death grip of sudden fear takes hold.
Im never present in the times I feel fine and when I dont feel fine I long for the moments I felt fine and I promise myself I'll be present the next time im granted the chance to be okay.
To be at peace or adrift in mundanity.
I want to be cared for.
I want to let myself be cared for.
I want someone to know how to take care of me.
The scale between wanting a love so blinding and wanting to be self-sufficient is one I will never know how to balance.
I crave solitude.
Until I have it and the deafening crickets burn a hole in my heart.
Everyone seems unreachable
Like if I go outside it will be blank.
Ghost town.
Only me, forever
That's what ive been trying to make peace with.
No matter what we're alone.
Born alone die alone
And yet when I see those two,
That perfect whisper of intimacy
The tilted heads and warm smiles
Im struck with a longing for a companion.
For the one companion
For the forever love that will be there even when I am alone
For the person to do the dishes and laundry with
For the care and adoration, I crave
And have not found yet
And might not ever.
I have the love of all the great and powerful
So why isn't that enough?
I close my eyes and become a tree
and my roots soak up the faces of all those I love
and they are all giddy and smiling
and their laughter twists into a wind that blows the leaves off my branches
and I become a canvas
readily malleable
wriggling gently in the breeze
I am nothing and everything
I am no one and everyone.
I am adrift.
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