So ______________ There is is a screech and some stalled movement. Embarkation and debarkation, beginnings and endings. An awful lot of travel.
When I zone into what I’m being told, in this shitty little rest between platforms, I can step outside of myself and see that what’s happening is the equivalent of the lurch upon station approach.
What The Lady says does this: Punches my skull; collapses my facial muscles; de-stabilises me; trips my tongue; stutters my thinking; voids my emotions; robs me of my gravity; fogs my navigation; murders who I choose to be.
And, slowly, I know I will get better. Other hands hold me until we came to a complete stop, and I get to keep the memory of a journey.
© Matthew Sheret, 2008