The Thing

I was never one to fear danger. I lived on the edge, not worried about the unknown. Free-spirited and often misunderstood which left me feeling discouraged, but dampen my spirit it did not. Life, to me was an adventure full of endless outcomes and infinite possibilities.

Then, there was this thing. This unexplainable thing that I couldn’t process and definitely couldn’t define. Though, others enjoyed defining it for me. Which is so often the case. Oh how it changed me- all the way down to the depths of my core.

That one thing. That one unexplainable thing. The thing that I can never quite process. The thing that sounds funny when I hear myself describe it. It’s like hearing the words that are coming from my mouth are not my own. Words that my soul does not recognize. But, they are my words and oh how they changed me.

Somehow, I am tied to this thing and have been for so incredibly long…. too long. The face connected to this thing dances in my head, at times oversized, with a sad, sheepish… harmless grin.

How could I lose so much to this one ugly thing? How could my strength, my essence, be sucked from my soul like bubble tea by an over-zealous tween? How? I don’t know- But, in fact this thing did take my power and all that my future once promised; damn shame or tragedy… depending on the point of view I suppose.

And that oversized fat face grinning like a dope just floated away like a free eagle soaring without iniquity; talons stain free on to brighter tomorrows.

I sit. I sit staring at my hands lined and broken. Left unable to move from my frozen position… like a promise whispered in the wind. I am lost and there is nothing left that can change this dastardly course… this direction in time.

I have tried and tried to divert the consequences and clear debris left from this thing, but as time has shown this fate I am beholden was meant to be and there is nothing left for me… I cannot change the course of history.

I sit. I sit staring at my poorly cared for, lined and broken hands tinged with residual blood and earth… remnants of digging and clawing for thousands of years from my prison below.

Ultimately, this was not my destiny; to escape. Like Sisyphus and his god forsaken boulder I am living my forever and the eagle unencumbered flew to freedom. It’s memory a tabula rasa… clear of long since forgotten sins.