The In-Between

Life is so full of opportunities to live on the edge of the knife. Balancing on a thin blade that sometimes slices you up; other times you gently float away to avoid harm. This tiny little line is your redemption so you cling to it... this tiny little border between you and what scares you to pieces.

There is so much poetry in your denial. There are so many times you can shout and not be heard, or otherwise scream and shatter your lungs. I can't say I've done it all, but I've done most if it. And every time I close my eyes, the images surface of things that want to live... the little wolves posing as sheep, just waiting for me to climb down into the ravine so they can shed their wee fluffy costumes.

If you wake me up, I will suffocate you. If you take me up, I will take you down. If you chase me I will run, but if you run I will evaporate. If you evaporate, I will collect your molecules for a science experiment or a cake recipe. And around and around we go.

Some things are just too beautiful to ignore. The beauty that throws me against the wall and takes my breath is in essence the thing I can't live without. That is truly the most exceptional elegance of human existence. A glossy film that keeps your blood out of the streets and puts it, instead, onto the canvas. There is a place to lay my head. It is a place that my heart beats without the rest of me even being present. The knife's edge... the living, the dying, and the in-between.

My Glorious Salt Water Beginnings

I come from the sea. I am a sea creature... I throw myself into the ocean only to feel catapulted back into the womb. She is my true birth mother, full of vivid colors and wild animals swirling about. I understand her mood swings, powerfully charged emotions and deep seated need to take me under and swallow me whole. I know that she won't give up until she owns me and dissolves me completely.

This explains my hesitation to commit myself to her in any type of formal relationship. It exists anyway, with no need for proclamations or grand gestures on my part. She greets me with a great show of excitement and affection, always with her waters threatening to suffocate me. I visit and submerge myself in her embrace; I tread lightly on her surface, always knowing I am at risk of being engulfed by maternal filicide.

She recognizes one of her own, no matter how infrequent our encounters. Others clamor for her attention, but if they are not natives from her depths, they are rejected or treated with apathy.

But when we meet, we know. We both know.