letting go

i’m on a beach and its wet. i can’t escape the mist. it’s damp and uninviting. yet i’m still here. dealing with it whether i like it or not.

i’m digging with my hands. there are two other women with me. one is twice my age and has beach blown sandy hair. she’s probably been doing this for a while. the other woman is faceless. anonymous. but her presence is definitely felt. the sand is wet and keeps getting stuck under my nails. it seems strange to me why we’re doing this here. with our hands. the graves are shallow. and we bury them on their backs. face up. facing the heavens. eventually, the ocean will swallow and carry them out to sea. not the most secure burial but i didn’t make the rules. we’re still here. doing it whether we like it or not.

as my hands become raw from constant exfoliation, i hope for some kind of relief. a shovel. a shell. anything. my hands need a break.

in my lucidity, an object appears. looks like a shell. tan. shiny. oily. everything becomes bright. i’m not fighting to keep my eyes open. the woman with the knotty hair is screaming. crying. in shock. misery. rays of light pierce my eyes. why is this woman wailing?

the object is connected to something larger. a foot. attached to a small girl. but her face is down. she’s been here for at least a week. the ocean failed to swallow her up and take her out to sea. how could we have missed it? now i’m traumatized. maybe the woman next to me is rubbing off. i begin to join her in mourning. why is she lying face down?

the light gets brighter and my eyes can no longer bear it.

i’m awake. but i’m still not in my bed. i’m in my friends bed. again. this time in a very old house. it’s huge and i know it’s haunted. i can feel dead woman with me and she is full of despair. this is her room. and i am her guest. she has long black hair with no face. and she’s wearing a night gown.

i’m on the 4th floor and the windows are open. the breeze is comforting but it sends chills down my spine. just like her.

i’m meeting my friend at church. the one who’s house i’m staying in. she’s left me a note. the note tells me to go to the basement and grab money for the collection plate. the money is on the laundry machine in an envelope. i don’t wanna go down there so i send someone else. the whole house freaks me out. i only feel safe in my friends room where i’ve made friends with the ghost.

i walk down the creaky wooden stairs and escape the house. ready to go to church. i’m in the street. driving. drifting away. looking up at the 4th floor through the open windows. hoping to catch a glimpse of her. i’m scared of what i might see. everything in the room is viciously blowing around. and i see her long black hair dancing with the wind. i blink my eyes in disbelief. she is gone. and now all i can see are plants. and they are dancing in the wind.

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the sky people

restless. tossing. turning. sweating. eyes closed. ten minutes pass. or is it an eternity? i look at the clock. 4:00. it’s only 4:00. go back to sleep. close your eyes. nobody’s watching you. you’re the only one in the room. just you and your dogs. don’t think about it. stop thinking. don’t think. let yourself drift. back. where you just were. away from this room. out of the windows. back into the night.

and there you are. again. in the room. only now someone’s hogging the bed. someone intruding. taking up your side of the bed. a childhood friend. all grown up. haven’t seen him in years. that’s odd, i don’t remember inviting you here. maybe if i close my eyes he’ll go away and i’ll have the bed back to myself. i wish he’d just scoot over. i’ll keep my mouth shut and hope he’ll read my mind. i don’t want to be blatantly rude.  i haven’t seen him in years.

we’re both awake now. the lights are on. the room is orange. and there’s an infant sitting on his lap. smiling. giggling. we join in. giggling is contagious. and so is love. 

“love,” i say. “can you say ‘love’?”

the baby giggles and responds, “that word.”

smart ass.

my friend looks over at me and says he’s sold his organs for $50. classic move. he hasn’t changed one bit.

my window is cracked and i can feel the crisp breeze gently whooshing in. i want to be where its coming from. i want to be outside.

i feel the need to look up at the sky. something big is happening. something we usually don’t see. something carefully hidden. something that chose to make itself visible. right now. a glitch in our reality

a lion’s face lights up the sky. almost like its being projected on to a screen. and the screen is the night sky. captivating. enchanting.

the sound of helicopters and chaos echo in the distance. but that’s in the distance. i wanna get outside and catch a glimpse of the night sky before it switches back to how we’re supposed to see it.

i waste no time, climbing out of the crack in my window and on to the street outside my house.

it’s the middle of the night and all the neighbors are out to see this phenomenon.  almost like we’re being summoned by the sky. neighbors i’ve never seen before. there’s a sense of urgency. soak it all up before it disappears. 

i rush to the parking lot behind my house to get a better view. along the way i notice the time written down on the sidewalk in rainbow chalk.

four twenty something

they have tents set up. my people. they’re all wearing colorful costumes with body paint and glitter. and i’m wearing pajamas. but nobody seems to mind. it’s a celebration. a festival. how lucky am i to witness this in my neighborhood? in my back yard?

 

drums and flutes are humming in the distance. overshadowing the helicopters. all of these people are so welcoming and friendly. and so bright. like the stars. like the pictures in the sky. i don’t know what to do other than look up at the sky. that’s what i’m here for, right? they laugh and hand me proper eyewear. and invite me underneath their tent. we dance.

been here all along,
celebration,
a’nother day,
every night. coming out to play
only after we’ve drifted,
away they go
only then is it ok
the fae

 

the wolf

i’m looking for the bathroom but get lost along the way. i don’t mind. i never do.  but especially here. there is an abundance of pillows and the view is probably spectacular. the walls are made of windows and sliding doors.  it’s hard to tell one from the other. its like a beach house. a translucent box on a wooden porch built on top of sand near water. there are other glass structures on this porch. i chose to get lost in this one.

it’s about to rain. maybe even storm. windows begin to fog up. rain drops soaking into the wood on the porch. but the sun is still radiating light. the same kind of light that blankets your face and gently nudges you to wake up when you know you have another hour before the alarm goes off. allowing you to doze off. your eyes are closed. but the light is still there. nature’s snooze button.
i have a front row seat to the storm. looking out onto the porch. forgetting what time it is and remembering what time is. an illusion.
i see a small brown bear pacing the porch. no not a bear. a wolf. back and forth. circling.  i almost don’t believe my eyes and  i start to wonder why he’s here. perhaps he is looking for something. perhaps he is lost.
alert. alert. this porch is now on lock down. just like a disaster drill in school. but it’s not a drill this time. stay away from the glass. i’ve been told i’ll be safe if i hide behind these walls. out of sight.
they fear the wolf. they want to get rid of him. a team of large men are sent to attack. there are seven of them and the one with grey hair and khaki pants is the leader.  i must confess that i’m enjoying the chaos. high on adrenaline. it’s entertaining. besides, the danger is on the other side. i’m safe here in my room full of pillows. i’m comfortable. i’m bored.
i get up and edge toward the window to get a better view. edging toward danger. feeling compelled to open the sliding door. I have always enjoyed playing with fire. i crack the door and before the wet air even has a chance to brush my face, a mans  voice comes barking over a loudspeaker,
“close that door, grace,” it echoes.
there’s urgency in his voice. i didn’t know i was being watched. i feel violated. like i can’t be trusted to make my own decisions. what’s the big deal anyway? it’s just a wolf. not much different than us humans. I’d probably be pretty bitter  if alarms are sounded everywhere i go. constantly attacked and reminded that i’m not welcome.
nonetheless i comply. following the orders. attempting to shut the door. the harder i try, the more they start to wobble. coming loose. off their hinges. for a structure so technologically advanced, it seems silly that the doors are so loose. a man joins my deflated effort to shut the doors. shuffling as they wobble. probably doing more damage than help.
the wolf smells panic and turns his head. we’ve been spotted. i know what’s next.
he walks my way and pushes through the door. game over. i can no longer hide behind these walls of glass. i accept my fate. i trust the wolf. i trust myself. i come in peace. i brace for the impact. he walks over and shoves his head against mine. i push him off. he is soft like a pillow.
as he rebounds, i manage to catch a glimpse of his piercing blue eyes. or rather, they catch me. in our brief moment, i witness a haunting type of beautiful. a beauty you can’t unsee.  screaming. crying for help. trapped in this misunderstood vessel. he doesn’t know his own strength. he just wants to find home. his jaw comes toward my neck. i have no fear. for the bite is just a nibble. i feel no pain. it tickles. i feel love. and the blanket of light nudges me…. time to wake up.