The Labyrinth of Life:

Hey y'all. Super queer femme child of the '80s here. I grew up watching The Labyrinth, My Little Pony, The Last Unicorn, Legend, Dirty Dancing, Exorcist, and Poltergeist, among other things. Sesame Street was also my jam, and my sister held down the Mr. Rogers fan club, so I occasionally ventured into the Neighborhood of Make-Believe with her.

Long story short, I'm pretty well-versed in the problematic programs that many of us cuspy Millenials consumed regularly, and find an odd comfort in watching these movies and shows over and over again. Yes, I'm in therapy, and yes I'm unpacking my childhood trauma and reconnecting in loving and healthy ways with my inner children.

Speaking of unpacking, here's a lil piece I spewed while rewatching The Labyrinth for the umpteenth time. It was a cold winter night in New England, several days into a trip back east to visit family and I was feeling it.

I had curled my 25-year-old body on the futon in my Dad's den alongside a bowl of popcorn and my journal. The following poem fell out of me as I journeyed with Sarah, Hoggle, Ludo, Didymus and Ambrosius on that particular night:

Traversing the labyrinth

of life

|

Learning lines of communication

taking things for granted:

|

Breath

Heartbeats

Laughter

|

Straight lines and right angles

bend with ease

lifting veils of deception

|

Lipstick marks on concrete

directing me in circles

saving me

In search of the goblin babe

that lives within

|

Entering doorways to certain death

guarded by two-headed liars

|

Encountering hurtful hands

disguised as kind carriers

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Letting go

down to the oubliette

to the dwarf puppet

who shall lead me back to

the beginning

of my journey

but I refuse to be misled

|

I persuade with precious plastic

because I know better

|

I know that there is more

so I let the headstones babble

because it is a piece of cake

|

A sickeningly sweet

razor-sharp

soul-devouring

slice

Illusions, delusions

intrusions, conclusions

it's all the same

|

The bog of atlantic stench

is a constant threat

an inevitable destination

|

But that's the way it is

|

I am learning to (dis)trust the white-bearded man

with a bird on his head:

|

The way forward is sometimes

the way back

|

Sparing meaningfulless diamonds

en route to greener arches

The labyrinth lingers

as friends fear forward motion

|

Stumbling upon seemingly scary monsters

suspended in mid-air

|

Trusting intuition

I set that beast free

|

13 o-clock looms

as I search for the ground

in a forest unfamiliar

|

Territory for the taking

of heads, limbs, minds

not mine

|

I will not allow this

constant threat of throwing heads

|

Kissing my way down to the bog

timing is off

gestures of kindness

reap unwanted results

|

So I seek out bridges

in the final hour

and search for that common language

remembering to ask for what I need

|

"May we have your permission"

to cross the ancient

crumbling bridge

towards our destination

|

Calling on ancient stones and

rock friends

accepting poisonous fruit

|

Because hunger hurts

and fruit is sweet

so luscious and luring

Dancing, trancing my way

into a dream on the forest floor

as companions march forward

|

I am suspended in slumber

|

Portrait of a pale jewel

managing massive movements

retrograde masquerade footprints

in the sands of time

|

Shaking silver sparkles

shattering shards of glass

stumbling, sifting through my compost heap

|

Back to my home

my world

my life

|

The journey forgotten

Led by a woman with the weight

of her world

on her shoulders

|

Back-breaking, heart aching

I sit as she piles layers and layers

of my material life

|

The rest is nightmare

|

I am scared but she helps me to forget

what I was searching for

|

The rest is junk

|

I tear down the walls in a fury

or rage and defeat

and move forward

Propelled by the realization

that I must continue the journey

in the company of passionate

supportive individuals

|

The goblin guard is an illusion

an intrusion into my space

not a conclusion of my travels

|

It's all smoke and mirrors in the end

a little man operating

a large machine

|

Learning to forgive

courageous friends

who take massive leaps

of faith

|

You can call out your guards

hide the baby

fire your cannons

attempt to delay the inevitable

|

I am a force

oceans stirring inside of me

moon cycles guiding me

|

I can fight and scream and kick

but it will do no good

the child still remains

The final destination

is the child within

climbing stairways to nowhere

just out of our grasp

|

It is love that led me here

and love that will lead me

forward

|

Shifting focus

the message blurry

|

I stumble on words

buried deep within my core

|

I open my eyes and remember

the journey

|

Twists and turns

lessons I've learned

soulmates I've earned

bridges I've burned

|

I don't care if you've rewired time

if you've given me everything

you think

I want

you think

I need

|

With all of the love in my heart

in my soul

to the depths

of my being

|

In this shifting

ever-changing

consciousness

we are encountering

|

I speak the truth I know:

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours and my kingdom as great... YOU HAVE NO POWER OVER ME."

|

The spell is broken

I am free

to live

to laugh

to love

|

To continue the journey

through the labyrinth

of life.