Holding

I hold onto things –
a stone
a red thread around my wrist:
Proof that you exist
Something so young is in the room.
When mother leaves the room
there’s no knowledge she will ever come back.
When I don’t hear from you
immediately….

Logically
this reaction in me is nonsense
and look: there is the thread!
But logic does not inhabit the universe
that I am in right now.
When you are out of sight
You cease to exist

I come here to rewire
some old neuronal pathways
that are sending me into the abyss.
Exposing myself to this trigger
and breathing.

I have dug deep to get here
I didn’t have to do this
I could have stayed in safety
in half-life, half-fog,
in my armour, closed off, protected.
I have chosen to take off each piece of armour
and underneath
there’s no skin at all.

After I was attacked
it threw me into this place
of vulnerability
and I experienced connecting with others:
It was so beautiful, unexpected
I didn’t want it to stop.
But gradually the armour went back on
and years passed.

And here I am
This time it’s for good
The holding is real
But look how much it takes!
Work to be done.