I was afraid.
How many paces? Wandering across the unattended frontiers of my mind.
wild. Thirsty. Hungry.
Uninvited waves of emotion settling on my memories of you.
Minutes pass, I begin to realize my body is more afraid of the uncertainty of what it will do to me. To be sad, to feel sadness.
To surrender to the heaves of my chest, gasping between sobs. To contend with what feels as close to dying as my body has allowed.
This time is different. I am ok. I am …
Adjusting to the light.
If I move as cautiously as I do quickly, I can beg my old friend to tell me where she was from, who sent her and when was she leaving.
It don’t work like that baby, she cums when she’s finished. Bust it open then, on my thoughts, she feasts.
This is target practice, mama holds a big gun.
One blunt, two 20- pound plates, 90 squats, our song on repeat. I’m, alive. I’m alive. It’s safe to be in my body. It’s safe to feel.
Breathwork. Breathwork. Toddler scream. Toddler cries.
“I’m a queen. I’m a queen”
I’m in control of my emotions.
