Thank you.
these past few days felt
and the next couple of days will feel
like a punch in my belly by a hand covered in concrete and oil
I will keep walking through the streets with a burning chest
and constant shedding of the skin & hair & everything that I held onto
for so long, painfully growing into my heart
the hand is the hand of my friends and all the people
that moved me in any way in the past year
(I’ve written their names down, all of them, on a long list spanning two pages)
it is not a violent punch - but a gentle & necessary one
the fingers of the hand don’t point at me before the punch
the hand holds out to me and as I reach for it, I know what is going to happen
it dunks itself into a bucket of oil
it is translucent and doesn’t stick,
only covers the hand in a barely visible film
a mixture of the rage I carried inside of me
directed towards myself & everything I couldn’t control
and of a healing ointment covering my wounds
(I’ve written your names down, all of them, on a long list spanning two pages)
as the hand touches my body,
the oil ignites on impact, setting my chest on fire
I feel the fire going up into my mind through my veins
my limbs going numb & my thoughts clouded by the smoke
it destroys the thorns that were growing inside of me
my own shell ended up hurting me
leaving me bleeding inside
I don’t know what happens when the fire goes out
I hope it does
and I hope it leaves me in a state in which I
can forgive myself
for everything.