Fear so deep I can feel it in my veins produces this dream-like stance- can’t move a muscle- lured by my own lamentations: such sexy winds of breath stealing all my drive, forcing me farther away from the light.
Despair becomes a guiding light into mistaken safety, where efforts are in vain- Reciprocity forgets your name, even as you drive into the airport. No one ever said dreams were pleasant no one ever figured out how to wind the clock back to a time less fitful more alluring.
So who is this fish who knowingly bites the lure? Not afraid of the dark, terrified of the light run so far her chest heavy with wind, leaves the needle of life stuck in her vein won’t pull it out, won’t wake from the nightmare- not yet, not till she can be the one to drive.
Depression is an addiction, like any other driving force- intoxicates your thoughts with lures of esoteric knowings, Privy to only those who dream like you do those in denial of the life that is always there, but sometimes hard to see. Veins swollen with the regret of changing winds.
It’s not easy to finger the sounds of wind-chimes, to believe in a road you can’t drive yet drive on. Outside the weather-vane predicts warm days, lurid moments full of sunlight. Inside you’re controlled by fickle dreams.
I am still waking up from this 24 year reverie, pulling up the shades, peering through the window of chance. Strength like Thunder, fear like lightning I learn how to change gears, drive myself away from the seductive lure of despondency and the chance to be vain.
Concern flows thick through my veins- it is all I can do to dream that tomorrow might lure me down a different, winding path one where I won’t be hit by my own driven car, but consciously embrace this light.