Venado Isand, Costa Rica
From bone to meat, from sigh to grind
Strive against tendencies to fall and slip; slide and dive; then tumble- legs askew, head snaps
Over, over, and over; over, over, and over; snowball somersault down a mountainside
Speeding rollercoasters bursting off track, hurtling high and arcing down to the crushing depths of the sea
Air strangled, no breath; just salt and gushing filling death
Resigning myself to the path of never-more
Rush, rush; rush, rush without end; penetrating the sanctity of my form like so many others
Please come, take me to the dark; take me to the place where I am no more
Ashes, ashes; memories alone; turn them to stone, to ashes and stone
Blind me and silence my fears with the beat of the blood; rush, rush, rushing into the sea,
To the purple-black cold welcoming pool; to the end of all that has been me
Stop and start; repeat the same unenlightening, beguiling patterns; colors of loss and oppressive heat; heart fails and dust swirling around and above and underneath
Forward I crawl and backward I lunge; is it my innermost undeniable eventuality?
Escape, relief, decline? Yes, please, yes! No, but I can’t.
I am a self-made victim; somehow bliss accompanies the straining, gurgling crushing of my soul
I long for better, more; but I can’t swim, much less soar. Any more, any more.
Toss, turn, twirl, moan
One step leads to another; down the stairs, down and down;
Trudging and tripping till I smell the perfumed petals
Soft, pastel, perfumed petals drift up and down on a breeze of regrets and almost
Landing on the smoothness of my transport, box of finality and entombment
I am a sad seeker, a joyful sufferer; addict to tears and rending emotionality
I let go, I fell, my sight obscured. I fell over as the whoosh of the wind whistled me away
This was written in June 2013. I have battled with intense depression and anxiety throughout my life and at this time I was in a particularly desperate place where I daily contemplated my own annihilation. The thoughts were all consuming and I felt that I was in great danger of acting on my fantasies. Along with other means, writing this made me feel like I began to take some of the power away from my thoughts by shaping them in the secure space of the page.