metoo

my path was hijacked…

we all have our visions — guided dreams of our forever lives. with the weight of our love. declaring us still. into a known place.
and i had mine.
i dreamt of knowing. having certainty. pointing my finger. towards a direction. having a stance. of where i was sure.

but then someone stole it. right at the moment. when the lines in the road. started to appear. new, passing stripes. with calculated corners. fresh from earlier paint. sinking into the asphalt. heat-rising waves. being pulled up into the sun. having a place. of knowing where to go.
someone then came. and he blended the lines raw. now dirty with prints. smeared with intention. forceful swipes. and he made a home. inside my head. and wore my skin. to hide his shit.

and i just never understood. exactly what he did. until it became too late. a forced rear-view. sucking the breath out of my lungs. like seeing the car crash. right as you pass. a machine in your hands. trying to steer. towards and away. wondering about the carnage. that then shows up in your new dreams. forcing you to see. the other dreams. you left behind. some years later. while away from home.

so you see. it’s not just about believing. when someone cries out. making sure their story. fits right into place. it’s also about knowing. that they’re just lost. trying to find. the path back to themselves. struggling to see. their confident lines. in the dreams where they were traveling. before someone. wiped it away.

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