Updated: May 6, 2021
Hyper-activating the space around me
in every body except my own,
caressing each whim
like I’m used to.
One wrong word triggers landmines
with a verbal violation of being,
and then being in body
is too much.
Sinking into the safety within, I begin
my frantic search for some way
to make sense of the
And I fill my holes with another man’s word,
casting nets instead of wading in,
feeling the full force of waves
by their weight.
But in the dark I find what’s always been mine
as my body gives way to gravity,
echoes surging from the depths
like flooded lungs of fresh air.
So begins the excavation
of digging up seeds planted long ago,
which continue to grow as I continue to sew—
No longer now once my church became a cave is now
trying to make sense and contextualize some early childhood experiences, and how they've rippled outward into the rest of my life, the way i carry myself and attempt to do the same with the world around me. creative writing assignment from spring 2021.