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Squeamish and frozen, heart pounding, thump, thumbing through the walls of this glassy negative. Thoughts arise in dreams, in wakefulness, of entrapment. You, I believe are carrying the secrets of dear friends, the burden of a sloppy detachment, and the unstoppable pressure of commitment; to things you care not for. This, you find all too overwhelming for the naked spirit.
Dreaming, I found myself one day, drowning beneath the life I had too hastily created. And dead, lying there thinking of my bones and my epidermis, of the choices I had made from unstoppable lust and my lack of tenacity for redemption. Then, feeling this itchy and tremendous burning sensation as it ran up my skeletal complexion, beginning with the tips of my toes. Was it attempting to evaporate the water that first engulfed me? How blessed. I was, was…being rescued, and what’s more…for no sake of my own. Pity and perhaps the hand of a power beyond my existence had taken me for who I was, in my bleakest moment of despair and had let me go. [Kristen Delaney] |
