As of today, I don’t feel in control of my own steps. I remember how they went, the instructed ones, but I feel lost in a freestyle that is not controlled by me. Or you. Just a non choreographed drawn out visual play, but one that is definitely filled with meaning.
Through everything, I’ve always been one controlled by someone else. Being held. My steps felt as though they were my own, but always someone pulling my strings. Being pulled one way and another, quickly, all while believing it was my decision.
But the pirouette. That I chose. I chose to be carried away by the sound of the music, the sound of your voice. And I probably shouldn’t say that it was my favorite step. The free feeling. The way you spin around the room.
I now rest my head on the altar, lay down in the water. Remembering the steps, the words, who I was before and who I am now. There is no BC or AD. There is just before it all, and after it all.
When I thought I could spin slowly, but just picked up the pace to have it run through my veins stronger. I felt as though I belonged, as though I could rest in the watery essence. But as soon as my head had been spun too much, and I was feeling dizzy, I had an offering. I prayed I could lay back, and be in soft water.
What I had to offer was not enough. I had everything from time to time. And I entrusted. But I leaned back, and was overwhelmed with saltwater, up my nose, in my mouth, the water was in control of itself, and it was against me because it itself was a marionette. Controlled by something else; controlled by you.
You allowed it. You controlled it all. Offering me a place to rest, a place to be safe, when all it it was was a drowning trap.
I wish I could bottle it all up, and breathe it back like valium. So much so that it overwhelms me and I fall into the inevitable death. And when I meet the maker, I’ll tell them all the stories. Of this world.
Of someone stealing their heavens, and giving it out in the form of a feeling.
I remember when we met. You looked too long at me. But I didn’t turn away. That was always how it went. I saw a stranger in your eyes. In the cold fluorescent light. And you flashed those earth filled eyes, and I couldn’t turn away.
I see shattered remains of you everywhere, but you’re gone. And it shakes my essence to the core. It rings through me like a god forsaken song. Never ending. On repeat. The bass shaking the ground, waking the neighbors and causing things to fall from their shelves.
You and your unforgettable words. I would call you ethereal. Too light and perfect for this world. But that would be a lie. You are the opposite. A storm, holding me down. Constantly reminding this earth of your presence. Creeping under the floorboards and ripping the dirt from underneath, scattering it everywhere, sticking your hands into the hearts of those who pass you. A strong presence. Quite corrupt for this world.
There is no medicine I can take to make this easier. I am just left with my body heaving, trying to get you out of me. But you never go. I am being wiped out. I know I need to be the one to exorcise your being from me. But I fear it’s too strong for me to do alone. It would take a grand high witch, sorcerers of all specialties, and Lucifer himself. To fully and completely remove every trace.
And the silent river sings, to offer lonesome hymns. And I take my seat against the bed, watching the stars over town. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I didn’t mean to fall apart.
The greatest show, for what it’s worth. But it will eternally be an empty verse.