When I was 21 and had just given birth to my first baby,
I got a blank postcard in the mail and on the front was a picture of a woman in a dress, standing in a field of yellow.
The longer I stared at it the less it made sense,
She became less and less familiar.

4 years later I was holding my second baby,
And I got another postcard, nothing written on it this time either but on the front was the same woman.
This time she sat on a bench in the middle of a storm.
I felt a strange and intense need to tell her to get up and walk back home -
She seemed to be paralyzed by all the grey surrounding her and I thought if someone would just yell her name, she would remember who she was, how her body worked, she would wake up and realize it's time to leave.
But my throat would close up everytime I tried to say anything,
And I got too tired.
My body started to hurt,
My heart felt like it was buried too deeply inside me.
I glanced up from the card and saw some clouds in the distance,
I thought
"That's odd.."
But then looked at my sweet boy and
Told myself to forget about it,
You can concentrate on this feeling and be a real mother and those clouds will pass by,
You probably won't even notice them as they float over you.

But I forgot to finish building the house before the clouds came and before I knew it was were living, eating, sleeping right in the middle of the worst storm I had ever seen.
Nothing made sense anymore.
My family was inside the tornado,
Oblivious.
My loves were outside watching closely
And I was flying around
And around
And around
Dying for my feet to touch the ground.

I thought, maybe I can just get used to the spinning.
Do I maybe like the spinning?
I started to forget what he looked like,
And sometimes I'd pass by his hand he had reaching out for me, and not even realize it had been another year spent traveling around this world.

I loved them while I hated myself.
I loved them so much that I wanted to die for them.
I loved them so much that when he held me, or they sat in my lap, or someone said
"I love you mom"
This entire body would scream
And the pain I felt in every corner
Was enough to make me want to run away forever.

And I would leave,
And fly,
And spin around
Watching them grow
Hearing him say
"Please come back".

Now I'm here. 6 years later.
And my skin soaks up their light.
I use the word love openly and spent the time I needed to finish  building our home, so that whenever that tornado in the distance looks like it's getting closer,
I lock our doors and shut the curtains
And we lay with eachother telling stories, talking about our joy, and feeling the comfort of closeness. The freedom of vulnerability. The calmness of attachment.

I'll wear these bricks on my shoes until the day I leave,
So I'll never fly away again.