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Writer's pictureKay Kowaleski

Atlas

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

immensity.


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

a canvas.


 

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.








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