I thought I had scraped you off my skin, I thought I had washed you out of my hair, but you're coming back again and leaving soot under my nails,
and although I could probably live with this I'm used to existing at homeostasis and you're making me feel imbalanced.
Together we had built mountains for ourselves and reigned over them. We were inseparable, or so we thought.
What we failed to realize was that although we created all of these beautiful flowers and grasses and deers,
our flood flashes, and mudslides, and mountain lions tore through it all faster than it was built up. We tore each other down, wore each other out. It was a battle over who had made which hill and you walked away with the things I had wanted but knew I wasn't destined to have.
So there I sat, in the reminence of what I used to call our kingdom, refusing to believe I had lost anything at all, refusing to see that you were gone.
The wind finally rolled around picking me up and lifting me high. It was there to remind me that I didn't need you, I could find my own new realm.
So the wind carried me to the sea, and the sea was home for me. Yes waves would crash and I would feel like drowning at times, but I knew how to swim; I knew this was the place where my heart could rest and where I could grow strong again.
The sea brought me back to life. It showed me that life cycles and that new chapters become old chapters faster than you can turn the page, or interpret the story. I had become healthy again and I could feel my bones steady themselves in that ocean full of calm.
but the ocean does not remain calm forever.
The good times came and went, and the great storm decided to make her presence known again.
The waves she construed would slap my back and made me drift so far again that I forgot how to swim, I forgot how to be strong just as I had been before.
I found myself back at the base of the mountains, our mountains.
Looking up at them again made my bones began to feel weak, my brain began to pulsate, my eyes began to sting; the memories came flooding; new, old, good, & bad, that basin had brought it all back
and before me stood a choice. Do I climb back up to look at the view, or do I retreat back to my waters? I was in search for a sign, I needed something to tell me that I was going to be alright, that I wouldn't slip, that I wouldn't fall again, that I was strong enough to endure the challenges that I desperately needed to face.
I made that choice, I chose to face you again, and now to this day with me at the top of the mountain overlooking the sea and you half way up, it dust storm kicking and all, I wonder if I made the right one.
Was it happiness that I thought I was to find up there? The view will always be breathtaking, but I forget that I cannot breathe, for the lack of oxygen in those high altitudes is too much for my lungs to bear.
They often get crushed in the weight of your unyielding shadow.
I can see you now, you're climbing up. Part of me is optimistic; I want this to work, I miss our kingdom, I miss our hills, and I miss our cherry trees, and all the caterpillars. The other half, however, is wary; we know shame and we hide from our fear. I decide to let you up, instead of pushing those rocks to keep you down; I decide to trust
but as you travel, you begin incorporating the sea and all it's little shells into the grooves of this mountain I find myself standing on, and you do not realize it but it's like you're digging them into my skin, forcing them in places they simply do not belong, and I feel myself getting dirty all over again.
I do not understand it, I gave it all up for you. I reopened my wounds, and spread my heart on the floor, because I remembered those moments where we saw our rolling hills rise up, but I remained just that, and you began to tower over me.
It's the betrayal that hurts the most, it's the betrayal that makes my lungs tighten and my thumbs lose their pulse.
I'm feeling my throat fill up with dirt and grass and I'm losing all of my words
but through all my tears and confusion, I can see you. You've reached the summit, you appear tall and strong again with the mask of entitlement you have always worn so well. You are merciless, you are determined, and although you're more than aware that your mess has been poured all over me, you continue to let me be buried alive, the real truth that now I must face however, is do I?