Flashbacks of those winding roads. The ones littered with bodies. People. Cars. Ambulances in ditches. I’m dodging the bodies. Do I stop to see if they’re breathing? Do I get out and help?

Nah, they’re not real. They’re just bumps in the road. Bumps I have to avoid. No need to stop and check for a pulse. I can barely feel mine.

Speeding. Closing my eyes. Foot heavy on the break. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This. Isn’t. Happening. The breaks are useless. The impact of my heavy foot causing more damage.

Eyes. Closed. No memory of slowing down. No memory of the pause. Parking. Getting out. Walking. No memories of that. Just feelings. Pains. Tingling in my legs.

Flashbacks of the helpers. Those people. The brown eyed ones. Dark skinned and gentle. Holding my limbs for me. Dragging me out of the car. Moving my legs. Stumbling with each step. Keeping my arms in place. Holding me upright. Up. Right. Through the tunnels. The stairs. Up. Right. Round the corner. Three flights we climbed. Or was it four?

My body heavy and limp. Restlessly limp.

Flashbacks of the lights. Those harsh bright lights. The table. The cutting board. The blurry faces. Those fair skinned believers. Signing papers. Blue eyed deceivers. The ones who strapped me down. Stole my breath. Stripped my humanity and left it in a plastic bag. Suffocating and growing mold. Giving me bruises in my sleep. Taking pleasure from my pain. Those ones.

The white devils.

My body quakes at the thought of them.

Bones turn to jello.

Throat swells. Chest heavy.

Just a blink. And I’m back. A safe house. A house. A Safe. A key. A plastic illusion of safety. This is only temporary.

What’s in the safe? Treasures? Money? Food? Are there weapons? Drugs? Tools? What’s in there? Is it really safe? Is it worth protecting? Are you never gonna use it?

Time to drift. No need for answers. Abandon ship.

This cycle.


Closure? You want closure?

Oh. Sure. open sore.




release me

I’m in the house again. A trusted friend accompanies me. The one who was there when he wasn’t. The one who held my hand as i took the poison. Who stroked my hair as i lay curled up in a ball on the floor. Moaning. Groaning. Bleeding out the last traces of him. The one who was there as I cried and begged for independence. That one. The real one. One of them.

I enter through the main door. She disappears into the hum of the building. Filthy nostalgia. What am I doing here? Seriously. What the hell am I doing here? Did someone call me here? Was I invited? Am I welcome here? Does he want me here? Do I still care what he wants? Pretty sure he’s the one who wants me here. He’s the reason I’m visiting this place. And that reason is beyond my comprehension. But shit here I am. Weaving through these unanswered questions.

I’m in go mode. Looking around the corner, I see a door cracked with the light on. He’s in there. Pretending I don’t exist. He’s in there. Preoccupied. He’s in there. Playing games. He’s in there. With what’s his face. The white dude. That one. Whatever his name is. They’re doing their thing. He’s trying so hard to send a message. I feel it. I’ve heard it. Now here the fuck I am. You’ve succeeding at invoking a response.

I’m quite familiar with this game. I know how he moves. So I keep it moving. I don’t make a sound. I’ll play along. I don’t see the harm in it. I’m still here. Amused.

This is a dream, after all. I am somewhat lucid.

Back to questioning my purpose here in this space. Was it simply to check on him out of pure curiosity? His body language says don’t bother me, so does that mean my work here is done? Can I go home now? Perhaps its a different purpose. Maybe I’m picking up something I left? Or dropping off something I no longer need? I don’t remember coming in with any bags. So what am I doing?

I’m running circles in my mind. Confused. Questioning my own intentions. Questioning everything. He’s got me questioning. Fuck. He’s got me.  

When I’ve felt stuck in this place before, I like to think of him as a drug. Reducing this complicated intricate person to an inanimate object. A pill. A tiny manufactured tool. Dehumanizing a human as a means of coping. I’ve read the label. I know the side effects. I know what happens with continued use. I know exactly where this is going.

So why am i still here?

Hmm. I’ve always had a thing for this shit. Like driving aimlessly on dead end roads. Finding a dark place to park. Abandoning my vehicle. And walking. Leaving my safe place in the name of curiosity. Seeing where the night takes me. I get a rush from this feeling.

Down the stairs I go. Away from the horrible lighting. Away from the memories. Down, down, down I go. Down to the basement.

Someone put in a new carpet. Brand new everything. It appears to be clean. Nearly unrecognizable. It feels safer. Comfortable. Muffled. Yet still this feeling. I feel trapped. Bound. Hiding from something. Avoiding confrontations.

I peek in to the room where we used to sleep. Fresh carpet blankets the floor in this small space. Stuffed animals thoughtfully placed in each corner. Signs of life. Little bears and giraffes. I tip toe around. This can’t be real.

I have an urge to take a shower. Wash myself of the memories. Peering across the room, I see a shower head. Recently installed. I lack patience. Ready to shower now. Not thinking of where the soap is. If there even is any soap. Not thinking of what I’ll be drying myself off with. Not thinking of the fact that the shower head has been installed above a pile of stuffed animals with no drain in sight.

Not thinking. Period.

This shit don’t make no sense. But shit, I just wanna be clean.

Nothing else matters. I kick the pile of stuffed animals out of the way. Turning the water on low. A trickle. I hold the shower head above my head. And then I see him. Out of the corner of my eye. Ready to talk. I laugh to my self. The droplets of water haven’t even fully saturated my body and there he is. Ready to talk. This is unreal.

I let him talk. Get whatever it is that seems to be on his mind out. He tells me about his life. All seemingly good things. All progress. I am happy for him. Genuinely. I hold my tongue.

Children start to fill the room. Running around us. Playing with the stuffed animals. Keeping things on track. Keeping us in check. Letting us know that they’re watching. That they look up to us. Raw and unfiltered judges. This is a supervised visit. Don’t do anything stupid.

As he speaks, I see the little black snake. Shriveled up. Crispy and delicate. Lying in the pit of his stomach. Protected by layers of distraction. Vulnerability is his name. He shows no one. Cause this tiny snake holds the key to that unlocks the gates to his underworld. With empty spaces I gladly dug. He is terrified of a breach.

Sometimes. Under the right conditions. With the right lighting. I can see it. The baby snake. The ashes. Glistening through his eyes. Begging to be let out.

Release me. Please. Release me. He begs.

I want to reply. To acknowledge his existence.

This is beyond my control. Beyond you. Beyond me.

Release me. He whispers. Let me breathe. The black snake pleads.

I apologize. For I am no gatekeeper.

Only he can set you free.

Not up to me.

you see?


this time it’s real

it’s the middle of the night, but artificial sun doesn’t sleep. the sky is illuminated as far as the eye can see. blurring the lines between night and day. it’s all so loud. the smell. the taste. the noise. i wish i could hide behind sunglasses. maybe that would make things quieter.

it’s easy to feel alone in a place like this. i usually would. but not this time. i’m with two others. maybe three. those comforting faceless beings who share the same blood and memories as me. we are in this together.

airplanes buzz around like flies. the harder i look, the more concentrated they get. and closer to ground. maybe i’m near the airport. that’s got to be why there are so many of them.

i’m no longer focused on where i am. or why i’m here. because i know what comes next. it’s always the same. each time it happens. one by one, the planes are going to start falling. just like in my dreams. only this time it’s real.

and so it begins. i know which ones are going to be next. each one that i look at falls as soon it meets my eyes.  it’s happening far enough in the distance for me to feel safe. but only for a moment. and then i  remember where i am. this place is infested with planes. more so than anywhere i’ve ever been. and they’re all gonna come down.

they start crashing closer and closer to me. fire and destruction all around. i’m dodging the chaos. trying to shield my faceless companions. i want to tell them where to hide. what to do. after all, i knew this would happen. i should be prepared. i should know exactly what to say. but the crashes are getting closer and this is just the beginning. i don’t have time to plan. it’s all happening so fast.

i love you. i’ll see you on the other side.

i climb on to a picnic table and jump. once my feet are off the ground, i know there’s no coming back. at first i’m just floating. then i speed up. up and up toward the sky. further and further from the ground. why hadn’t i done this before?

the chaos is beneath me. fire from the crashes glimmers in the distance. i’m rapidly accelerating. i’ve finally escaped. relief washes over me like a cool milk bath.

suddenly everything goes black and i’m vibrating. and then it hits me. i left my body on earth.

another train

i have to get dressed. i have to get ready. i have somewhere to be. a party. but i don’t know the host. it’s ok, my friend knows the host. my friend will come with me. my friend knows where the party is. and we’ll take the train.

i’m dressed and ready to go. i head to the train station and wait for my friend. once he gets here, we can board the train and get to the party.

the station is vast and scattered with people. we are all anonymous. in our own cages. with bars made of selfish priorities. each of us on a separate mission to distraction.

the train is here and i’ve already boarded and taken my seat. eager to get to the party. to accomplish my mission. one step closer. the doors remain open. there seems to be a delay in departure.

just when i think i’m set, i see my friend arriving at the station. remembering i was supposed to wait for him. i wave to get his attention. he sees me. but the train has already started moving. the doors are still open so i don’t panic. i assume everything will work its way out and he’s hopped onto the next car. i’ll just wait for him to find me.

i wait till the next stop. no sign of my friend. ill just call him. it will all work out. but there is no service in the underground tunnels. maybe i’ll get off at the next station and wait for him. maybe he’s waiting for me. i wish i knew where the party was so i could just meet him there. but i don’t even know the host. or anybody at the party. i need my friend to get me in to that party.

i get off at the third stop. everything and everyone is brown. the air is crisp and hazy like a monday morning.  people are in a rush to get somewhere. it’s too late to find my friend. he is long gone. and so is the party. i come to the realization that i am lost. i’ve missed my chance. time for a new mission. a new distraction. time to dance in my cage.


it’s early in the morning. but we are late. i am late. i have to be somewhere. anywhere. not here. i desperately want to leave. but i can’t go alone. i can’t leave without them. maybe if i wait in my car, they’ll take the hint and hurry things up.

and so i wait. hoping they’ll notice my absence. search for me. their search leading to the car. my car. or at least i think its mine. they’ll get in and we can get out of here.

and so i sit. back seat. mind racing. no leg room. no head space. no room to sit up straight. no room to think straight.

waiting feels like an eternity. and waiting is an eternity. i am eternally waiting. waiting for the next thing. escaping the present. anticipating the future. living in the past. my brain is scattered. and i am waiting for the pieces to find each other.

they open the door. get in the driver’s seat. we’re ready to go. and then. the friend. takes their place. the new friend. they picked him up while i was waiting. this friend is not my friend. this friend is their friend. and this friend is a stranger to me. we do not speak the same language.

the friend asks for a ride. where to? they aren’t sure. they aren’t from here. unfamiliar with the area. they’re only visiting. and they want a ride. i am bitter toward the friend because the friend has no sense of direction. i don’t want to help them. i want to get to where i need to be. wherever that may be.

why is the friend driving? how did this happen? this is my car. are they going west? north? certainly not east. certainly not where i’m headed. and they can’t go south because we are already headed north. we can’t turn around.

i’m using my energy to fuel my car and he’s taken the wheel. he’s driving like a maniac. i can’t even see where we’re going. does he even know? his head is blocking my view. so i close my eyes and wait.

we continue north. i guess we’ll take this highway till we hit the crossroad. we’ll get rid of the friend so we can go east. and they can go west. we’ll drop him off at the airport.

when i open my eyes, we are driving over a lake. a flooded lake. people are living out of boats on this lake. i thought we were on the highway that takes us to the airport. i take this highway every day and have never seen this massive lake. has the lake always been here and i’m just now noticing? or are we on a different highway, heading into the unknown. i panic. where is he taking us?

we reach the end of the highway. and we’re at the airport. the airport is a beach. sandy and dry. and we are no longer in my car. the car has dropped us off and has driven away without us. and i don’t think it’ll ever come back.

i feel abandoned. alone. lost without my car. but i should have known. the car was only temporary. the car never cared about me. it was only a vessel. taking me where i need to be. but i’m in the wrong place. there has to be some type of mistake.

i guess i’ll wait. comb the beach for interesting objects to pass the time. and there are plenty of interesting objects here. washing up onto shore. rocks. tumbled glass. beautiful distractions.

i want to collect them. to feed this innate compulsion to acquire things. not really thinking about it. just doing. i reach out into the sand and a wave crashes over my hands. the tide is rising. the sky is misty and grey. everything is grey. even the water.

i run away from the water. it’s coming for me fast. my feet are sinking into the sand in this attempt to flee. the ocean wants to swallow me.

but i escape. just in time. i get off the beach. through the bushes and on to a gravel road. i hear noises. distant clatter. some. bodies shuffling in the bushes. i thought this place was deserted. but they live here. on the fringes of society. chased away from the concrete structures. how many are there? what will they look like?

they never come out of the bushes. i go in. a hidden colony. is this my new home? i hope not. i don’t look like these people. they don’t look like people. they have no identity. only a few still look like people. the new ones. the ones who have been here longer have white hair and greying skin. and the oldest ones are completely grey. hairless and naked.

the longer you stay here, the more you blend in with the grey. nobody seems to notice me despite my appearance. i’m sure i stand out. i am the fresh meat.

an alarm sounds. drums beating. echoes muffled by the sand. somehow, we all know where to go. what to do. lay down and close your eyes. don’t you dare open them. don’t you dare move.

the drums pound through my chest. we’re waiting for someone or something terrifying. waiting for it to come out of the bushes and inspect us. this creature is hungry. i’m so overwhelmed by this new environment that i have no room for fear. i am surprisingly calm.

the creature comes in through the bushes. he has arrived. the moment we’ve been waiting  for is here. he has long white hair and is wearing a blue uniform. slowly pacing through the crowd. a mist falls down upon us.

our eyes remain closed. curtains shut. a screen commanding me to clap my hands is projected onto the darkness of my eyelids. i obey. i hear others clapping along. but not everyone. not the person next to me. they are silent. they are still. and they go limp. i hear a thud. they get dragged out of the bushes by this creature.

we can open our eyes now. everyone is so glad it’s over. so glad he is gone. i look around and notice that the others seem to be traumatized. but not me. perhaps i’m in shock. too much information coming at me at once. no time to process it. or maybe i’m immune.

we gather in a circle as a woman hoses us down. urgently washing the mist from our skin. white fuzz begins to grow from their faces. soft white fuzz.

am i growing this fuzz? what does my face look like? did i get sprayed? am i even here?



i cannot sleep. a familiar feeling keeping me up. the shift. physical. mental.

sharp pains striking my chest. my feet. my stomach. my hands. what is this? i ask.

and then the lights flicker.

wind howls in the cold dark grey space between night and morning. calling my name. whistling at me. taunting me.

and then the power goes out.

could this be it? could this be the end of the world? the end of my world? the end of my life? fear takes over.

and then, an explosion. a boom. a bright light. piercing through the window and onto my wall.

i’m certain. the ship has crashed.  they’re here. my time has come to return home. i am no longer worthy of existence on this planet. but i am not ready to leave earth. this temporary home. cold and dark as it is. i love her dearly. i am terrified.

and then, i tip toe toward the window. no longer do i wish to be alone. cradling my dog. my anchor.

peering through the window, i come face to face with the source. of my fear.

an electrical fire. burning down a telephone pole across the street. mother nature’s sparkler. reminding us of her power. taking out our artificial power.

forcing us to disconnect. to unplug. to detox from the fake white light. detached from our own.

no longer do i feel alone.


the butterfly people

staring up at the night sky. with my anonymous companion sitting by my side. i want them to see what i see. and i see the stars. all of them. tonight they are going to put on a show. i can tell by the way they start to move. it’s subtle at first. one by one they begin to shift and shoot across the sky. warming up. building momentum. pretty soon they will dance.

and then pretty soon turns into right now. and right now they are floating and jumping around like a confused school of fish. such a lovely sight. i want to take it all in before it goes away. cause it always goes away. this scene never lasts longer than a few heartbeats. and my heart is beating. because i know what comes next.

the dancing usually turns violent. and i usually panic. anticipating doom.  the stars twisting and turning. swirling around so fast my head spins. i panic cause i feel powerless. no control. my human body stands no chance against the inevitable crash. and they always crash.

but tonight is different. tonight i am calm. i know the stars are going to crash because i’ve experienced it before. yet here i am. still standing. heart still beating. i always survive the crash. because the crash is just an illusion.

just an illusion i say to myself. and something shifts within me. no longer worrying about the crash. no longer playing it out over and over in my head and bracing for the impact. this time  is different because i am looking forward to crash. i’m ready for what awaits me. and then a light goes on.

and the light appears to me as a star. but this star is not dancing. its movement and hue set it apart from the others. a tiny yellow ball of light. drifting with the wind. toward me. all the other stars are white. but this one is yellow. this is my star. and tonight is the night i get to formally introduce myself. finally.

the ball of light is getting closer and bigger. it has a dark spot. a silhouette. i see wings. a butterfly. i see the silhouette of a butterfly. a glowing butterfly coming my way. closer. nearer.

i extend my arm and she lands. perches. kind of like a bird. but her body looks like a bat. a bat with beautiful monarch butterfly wings. i am so lucky this creature has chosen my arm to land on. i can’t believe this is happening.

i blink and the butterfly shifts. changes shape. the butterfly has turned into a human. she looks exhausted. she says we’ve made contact before. and i tell her about the dream i had. the one with the path of butterfly wings on the sidewalk. and she nods her head.

she says that i may be one of them. a butterfly person. and only time will tell. they will visit me again. and over the course of their visits, lessons will be taught. and i will be tested on these lessons. i’m told to be vigilant. and vigilant i will be.

i look forward to the lessons. to the tests. the transformation. maybe one day i will learn why the stars dance. and learn how to dance with them up in the sky. and float down to earth. and check up on the people.

until then i can only dream.

sit back and enjoy the show.

the cycle

in the air. on the air. of the air.

off. the air. out of our vehicle. on to land. to this foreign place.

and here. the air. salty. dry. bright.

and the sidewalks. paved with dirt. fresh dirt. clean dirt. pure dirt.

feet sinking in to the earth with each footstep. like walking on foam.

no bags. no phone. no way of escaping the past, present, or future. i am here for the first time. with mother at my side.

she speaks no words. she is able to be. and she being is enough. we’re in this together. calm washes over me. i feel light.

i am her. and she is here.

how long will we be?

no matter.

looking down. i see the butterflies. everywhere. their wings littering the sidewalk. littering the dirt. littering our path.

bodies attached to wings. tiny bodies. or are they snakes? are they tiny snakes with wings?

no matter.

she picks one up. and it turns to mud. i feel the body crumble in her hands. wet and elastic.

one moment these bodies are bodies. and when they are no longer bodies, they are dirt. fresh dirt. clean dirt. pure dirt.

yet the wings that were once attached to these bodies remain. glittering the sidewalk. glittering the dirt. glittering our path.

no longer does this place feel foreign.

for. in this place. the wings are eternal.

and that is enough.


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


your soul and mine

Today I am here exactly when I need to be here. 5 minutes early. 7:55.  A bus blocks me from my usual entrance. The sun has not yet risen and they are happy I’m here. The instructors. The teachers. The bus driver. I’m the final one. We can leave now. They are relieved they no longer have to wait. Eager for action, they rush me on board so we can take off.

Today we’re having a field trip. Who cares where. It’s an escape from the mundane day to day routine. I’d much rather be on this bus to an unknown destination than stuck in that damp brown dimly lit building. Listening to the mumbles of regurgitated stories and false interpretations. Fighting the impulse to close the windows and wander to another land. Middle school classrooms. No thanks.

I spot Eliot on the bus. I am so happy. Thinking about it makes me happy. Really happy.

It’s 7:58 and we are on the road. Through the woods. Over the bridges. To those familiar concrete cities. They are sunny and white. Sterile. There are no trees in sight, as if anyone’s even looking. I have to wear sunglasses for protection. Instinctively. Or, at least, as instinctive plastic eye shade can be.

We get out and take our tours through the museums. Nothing strikes me as unusual. Or interesting. I’m subconsciously in limbo so I let them lead me. Obey their rules. Submit to the talking clipboard. I suppose I blend in. Calmness shielding me from the danger that is recognition, lucidity, what I do not want right now.

With each stop, we get closer. Nearer. The sky is blue with just the right amount of cloudiness. Reflecting sunlight. Through the wilderness and desert. Green pillows of rolling hills. My chest flutters. I don’t know where we’re headed but I know its where we’re going to be. Where we need to be.

We come to a halt. We’re here. I know this area better than my classmates. Somewhere in New Mexico. Or is it New Orleans?

This place is magic. A beach. White crushing waves meeting the clouds in the distance. Blending together as one. We’ve reached infinity.

Time to shine. Show them around. I feel superior cause I’ve been here before.We’re on my turf. And they need me. Without me, they’d be lost.

I’ll let them get out ahead of me. Explore and dip their toes as I gather my things. My stuff. As I fumble, shuffle, and fight it. They are free. Breathing in that salty sub zero contradictory air.

Last time I was here, I swam in circles.Trying to get away. Away from land. Swimming in circles. My strokes became effortless and I began whirling around. And just when I thought I was lost, I found a tunnel. I stepped through. Getting familiar with the motion of walking again. Teaching myself to use my legs for  stepping, not kicking. Heaviness.

The tunnel led to an escalator. I hobbled down the escalator and looked to my right. Fish tanks. I looked to my left. More fish tanks. I looked up. Fish tanks above me. Why are there so many fish tanks? What a strange place.This tunnel through the ocean. Why do you need fish tanks in the ocean? Or could I be misjudging this tunnel of fish tanks. Of course they look like fish tanks. I have been fooled. There never were any fish tanks. Quite the opposite.

The fish were actually holding me captive. Cutting off the door to my world. The dry world of air and land. This tunnel is a human tank. This is what I get for testing boundaries. This is what I get for swimming away from land. Swimming away from security. Now I am walking in captivity. I start to panic.

Nerves. Firing. Blood. Flowing. Eyes. Twitching. Eyes. Opening. I. am awake. I. am on land. I. am safe. It was just a dream. Just. A dream. I told myself. 

But. I. am here again. Waiting to get off this bus. I’ve been here before. And this time its snowing.

I want to get off this bus. I can’t get off this bus until I gather my stuff. My stuff. My things. My baggage. My phone. My phone case. My bag. My shoes. Tie my shoes. Do all these things. You can’t leave the bus till you do all these things and grab all this stuff. Your stuff. You must carry it because it is yours. Don’t leave your stuff on the bus or else you may never see your stuff again. Your stuff will disappear. Your stuff will become someone else’s stuff. What are you without your stuff?

Ignore those thoughts. Let them pass. Feel them move through you. Entering. Exiting. Gone.

I don’t need my phone. Get off the bus now. Get off and explore. Be where you need to be.

Someone is on the beach digging a hole.  There is no sand. Only icy bluffs. But it is a beach. It is a beach because there is ocean and there is waves. She’s digging through the ice. Drilling. She’s humming a familiar tune. She needs my help. Digging. Deeper. Deeper.

I am death, cried the vulture.

Gil Scot Heron. I know that song. That poem. I can’t remember the words.

Remember the words, Grace. She needs your help. Something something something-taking babies from their mamas. C’mon c’mon you know the words.

A bell rings. An alarm. Ding. I remember the words. That’s it. It has to be.

So if you see the vulture coming, flying circles in your mind.
Remember there is no escaping for he will follow close behind.
Only promise me a battle, battle for your soul and mine.