Aced Out

Feet to ground.

Head to the sky.

Body standing tall in the pool of gravity.

Life inflicts its demands on me quite lavishly, eliciting a vividly livid response from my living… What matters most?  Sun beams lance down like lasers from a futuristic space battle, striking my skin with keen efficiency.  Each step down the street is one more in the incredible heat, and the sweat beads around my eyebrows swiftly.

I call a full scale retreat into air conditioning.

My body is battered from battling and I must re-treat my wounds.  Naked I lay on this hospital bed of poetry, waiting for the nurse to re-dress everything broken in me.  Waiting for these words to stitch me back together, and for these flows to regenerate the hope in me.

Air conditioning.

I was pushing hard- trying to reach my best until I was bested by stress and it sent me into cardiac arrest, and now I lay here behind bars.  Trapped behind rhymes, mentally scarred, and fearful…  What if I can never walk again?  What if I am doomed to sleep, but never dream, eyes permanently opened in a comatose state glued to the ceiling?

…What matters most?

I drown while breathing and the waters of planetary pull slosh around me mercilessly… Grounded.  Like a ten year old sent to his room, or a plane with no wings, I am stranded here against my will.  My gaze sees the birds high and free and I struggle against the chains of my insecurities.  My wrists chafe against the shackles and a desperate prayer slips off my tongue… Nothing elegant, witty, or over spiritual- just a request for realness.  A plea to fully die, or fully be alive, but be loosed from this shadowy place in between.

I sleep.

I weep.

I breathe.

Prophetic imagery has succumbed to lobotomy- my future is swathed in darkness.  What to do… Where to go… Who to trust…

God, I need you.

… In the absence of my own faith, His voice speaks for me.

I am afraid of the unknown, but that won’t keep me from walking…

Feet to the ground.

Head to the sky.

Body standing tall in the pool of gravity.



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