From my journal...
That’s where the madness starts. The tip of my lips to the base of my spine. Flowing, following each concave, each curve. The trickle of silk on gilded breath. Those names, that story.
My story.
My heart tied to a single thread. Double knotted and dangling.
She weaves me in her netted palm. Then throws the string in the air. I follow it with my eyes. The dancing movement, spiraling in between a gust and a wind on its way down.
I am allowed to run. Oh yes, barefoot and facing forward the gate is open. I am free to skip down any path that looks inviting. I am allowed to visit stranger’s homes. Rap my knuckles on foreign doors.
A pair of arms, a full house of spades, flushed with diamonds, and a straight of clubs, but I can not play the suit I want. She tugs gently when the thread becomes taut. A reminder that she never lets go of gifts given.
I have collected hearts in my free time. I cradle them in my hands before stepping in front of a mirror. Trying on new ones, worn ones, second hand and slightly torn ones. They never fit between my rib cage. The bones, creaking from the weight of an emotional web.
Another knot.
I seek out twilight. The chaser of stars. I hunt night because the darkness terrifies me. The blackness of silence lurks behind my shadow and threatens to expose my light. The street lamp warriors are never any match for an enemy of this magnitude. Night so thick, that you have to slide your body in slowly. Sideways. Squeeze. To get to day.
I try to hide in crevasses, cover my golden thread with dirt to hide the glint. An armor of shale and lime. Dusted and muddy. I am careful now. Careful to only dance in the afternoon sun, when I know she is sleeping. Everything shines in the reflection of the day. And I too can open my chest and glimmer.
In the land of the rising sun I am safe. I have attached a rock to the middle of my thread and plunged it into the ocean. I will have to go deep down before I get past it. Now a fishing lure of tangled knots. She will drown me if she pulls too hard.
Teetering on the edge, my new life begins...
My story.
My heart tied to a single thread. Double knotted and dangling.
She weaves me in her netted palm. Then throws the string in the air. I follow it with my eyes. The dancing movement, spiraling in between a gust and a wind on its way down.
I am allowed to run. Oh yes, barefoot and facing forward the gate is open. I am free to skip down any path that looks inviting. I am allowed to visit stranger’s homes. Rap my knuckles on foreign doors.
A pair of arms, a full house of spades, flushed with diamonds, and a straight of clubs, but I can not play the suit I want. She tugs gently when the thread becomes taut. A reminder that she never lets go of gifts given.
I have collected hearts in my free time. I cradle them in my hands before stepping in front of a mirror. Trying on new ones, worn ones, second hand and slightly torn ones. They never fit between my rib cage. The bones, creaking from the weight of an emotional web.
Another knot.
I seek out twilight. The chaser of stars. I hunt night because the darkness terrifies me. The blackness of silence lurks behind my shadow and threatens to expose my light. The street lamp warriors are never any match for an enemy of this magnitude. Night so thick, that you have to slide your body in slowly. Sideways. Squeeze. To get to day.
I try to hide in crevasses, cover my golden thread with dirt to hide the glint. An armor of shale and lime. Dusted and muddy. I am careful now. Careful to only dance in the afternoon sun, when I know she is sleeping. Everything shines in the reflection of the day. And I too can open my chest and glimmer.
In the land of the rising sun I am safe. I have attached a rock to the middle of my thread and plunged it into the ocean. I will have to go deep down before I get past it. Now a fishing lure of tangled knots. She will drown me if she pulls too hard.
Teetering on the edge, my new life begins...
-H.T
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