My last night in Olympia, I died in three of my dreams. I woke up in the night and saw my shadow self sitting in front of the fireplace. She was made of soot and her long hair curled in plumes of smoke and ash. She sat there the way I did on cold days, she warmed her weathered fire fingers. She let herself in through the chimney after loitering under the window boxes for the last few months- she knew I startle easily these days so she came in quietly. She didn’t know I had felt her presence that entire time. We weren’t afraid of each other, but she was fearful of what was trying to get in. I woke up to two black smudges on my shoulder and found her footprints next to the rug. She had been dancing! Saying her farewells maybe, I haven’t seen her in a while. But she’s in me. She is anger and fear and shame and guilt and so much more and I have been carrying her with me for far too long. When I feel the smoke billowing, I release her; exhaling the soot so it no longer clogs my lungs, eyes, heart, or mind.
Later in the witching hours, fear knocked rapidly and sat impatiently at the back door. Paralyzed, stuck the same way I was that night. I wanted to get up and leave, or maybe fight, but I could not even will my eyes to close.
My ears tuned in to the branches kissing the window, the wind playing the chimney like an almost empty soda bottle, the impossible sound my blood makes as it sweeps through my veins. THERE IS NOTHING LEFT FOR YOU HERE! -the wind shouted at her. Go.
My hands were folded across my chest like a corpse- I never sleep like this, am I remembering my death?
Only I was there. Another night in that house and the dark would have billowed in while I was asleep. Taken over my most sacred of spaces.
A friend told me he saw me beside myself when I was beside myself. My own self was fleeing from me. So I ran.
And now I am where I am again.
It’s easier to face demons than it is to let them hover behind you. When they’re out of sight they grow and twist and gnarl and become so gigantic that you’re afraid to turn around because you can feel their chilled breath on your neck–its teeth crackle and it’s tongue spews hate, guilt, shame, so close to your ears you don’t know if you’ll ever hear yourself again. But you step away, cross an ocean, and- where’d they go? Drowned by my singing and laughter? Crushed by my swelling heart? Defeated by my will to carry on?
I no longer live to appeal to your desires. I know what it feels like to be absolutely depleted yet carry on. I had no choice. I will speak freely. I will hold you accountable. I will only put energy into worthwhile endeavors. I will wake when, and only when, I’m rested. When the sun warms my soil and the rain seeps in slowly and I know it’s my season to bloom.
You can’t have me.
I am not a being to be had.
You can’t have me.
I am all my own.
You can’t have me.
I know I’m not the one who created you.
You can’t have me.
You’re not worth a moment of my time.
You can’t have me. You can’t have me. You can’t have me.
The demands are as follows:
“Protection from dangers only dogs sense”
“Protection from the burden of dreams”
“Protection from disturbed sleep”
“Protection from leaving a trail”
“Protection from predators”
“Protection from structural collapse”
“Protection from domestic strife”
“Protection from the abyss”
“Protection from bicycle mishap”
Above demands shared from the “Portable Fortitude” playing deck by Corina Dross https://corinadross.com/
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