Paralyzed and raging all at once. Angry questions remain unanswered, an impedance to inner peace. An inner dialogue about no escape. Sensitivities flaring. There’s a hole in my tongue from fierce bites, there’s a bloody knee and hole in my jeans from stepping on a crack in the sidewalk.
Sometimes it takes a good jagged flesh rip to restore the shock of consciousness, to resume a state of alertness, to acknowledge a wrinkle in the ripple of potential.
No comments:
Post a Comment