Oct 2018
What you see in me
Is someone who is so used to isolation
And so good at disguising it
That to be present in the world is a surprise.
Everything rushes in
Everything touches me all of a sudden
And I am overwhelmed.
I don’t know if it’ll ever go away.
I don’t know if I want it to.
It brings a certain strangeness out in me
As I struggle to contain and conceal
Not my otherness
But my sudden immediacy.
I feel the floor pressing up against my feet
And the soft turnings of quiet things in the ground so far below it.
I feel the sea.
I feel the past and its whispers.
I feel the way a tree must feel
When struck by lightning.
Somewhere an artist carves the face of a statue in a quiet room
And something new is born
And I feel that.
Somewhere someone flings their arms wide
Leaning out across a railing over the water and laughing as the wind holds them up
And I feel that.
Somewhere lovers find each other for the first time
Somewhere a child learns a new word
Somewhere, someone tired and peaceful breathes for the last time
And I feel that
And that
And that.
It rushes in,
It all rushes in.
At once I am painfully in place
And scattered across the world
And it all swirls through me.
I am so used to being silent inside
And filling the space with music and words
Petty distractions and safe thoughts
But
Suddenly
If I had a thousand bodies and souls it would not be enough to hold all this
And I am disoriented
Like I’ve been thrown into deep water only to realize I can still breathe somehow.
It is that confusion you see in me.
It is the memory of before
Of having been everything and nothing all at once, forever,
And then suddenly contained-
I had forgotten,
But part of me remembers every time I see you
And it is always a surprise.
I don’t know if it will go away.
I don’t know if I want it to.
It’s why I miss things,
Why I can’t focus,
Everything in the world calls to me,
And everything in me sings back,
“Please don’t let me go again,
Please let me sink my hands into the earth and grow there
And never feel alone again.”
It’s a hell of a lot to act normal through.
Is someone who is so used to isolation
And so good at disguising it
That to be present in the world is a surprise.
Everything rushes in
Everything touches me all of a sudden
And I am overwhelmed.
I don’t know if it’ll ever go away.
I don’t know if I want it to.
It brings a certain strangeness out in me
As I struggle to contain and conceal
Not my otherness
But my sudden immediacy.
I feel the floor pressing up against my feet
And the soft turnings of quiet things in the ground so far below it.
I feel the sea.
I feel the past and its whispers.
I feel the way a tree must feel
When struck by lightning.
Somewhere an artist carves the face of a statue in a quiet room
And something new is born
And I feel that.
Somewhere someone flings their arms wide
Leaning out across a railing over the water and laughing as the wind holds them up
And I feel that.
Somewhere lovers find each other for the first time
Somewhere a child learns a new word
Somewhere, someone tired and peaceful breathes for the last time
And I feel that
And that
And that.
It rushes in,
It all rushes in.
At once I am painfully in place
And scattered across the world
And it all swirls through me.
I am so used to being silent inside
And filling the space with music and words
Petty distractions and safe thoughts
But
Suddenly
If I had a thousand bodies and souls it would not be enough to hold all this
And I am disoriented
Like I’ve been thrown into deep water only to realize I can still breathe somehow.
It is that confusion you see in me.
It is the memory of before
Of having been everything and nothing all at once, forever,
And then suddenly contained-
I had forgotten,
But part of me remembers every time I see you
And it is always a surprise.
I don’t know if it will go away.
I don’t know if I want it to.
It’s why I miss things,
Why I can’t focus,
Everything in the world calls to me,
And everything in me sings back,
“Please don’t let me go again,
Please let me sink my hands into the earth and grow there
And never feel alone again.”
It’s a hell of a lot to act normal through.
