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Done Being Done

Done Being Done

You’re done with your feelings.

Their heavy, fickle winds hiss in your casing. They blow your shell til it breaks. They wax and wane. You feel thin, weak, cracked. Chapped and raw.

You’re done with your home.

It was beautiful, warm. The light pooled, reflected, compounded. It’s too light. Too bright. White hot. The foundation breaks. Walls crack and peel. Heat razes higher and higher, spewing black rot as it pulls to the ground.

You’re done with your friends.

They chirp and they chirrup. They flit and they flap. Their shadows dart and jump and they sing to the sun a tiresome refrain. They take, leave mess and spirit off, like darts – sharp, needing a mark. Predators.

You’re done with your love.

It reached you from across an ocean, rolling up in complex currents of warmth and cold. Now it rolls back. It slides off your toes with a frothy, stale film. Now it is back? Now it is gone. Again and again, it slips away. You cannot hold it in your hand. You cannot even stomp it into the ground.

You’re done with your life.

Thrusting roots hold you firm, stop your movement. Branches expand to far to balance. You are pulled and stretched. Torn asunder. Taught and aching. Your limbs shirk, break and fall. All is dismantled.

This is you, now. Let go.

Lie back. Shut your eyes. Let your head fall, cradled.

Quiet now.

You’re happy. Safe in the solitude.

Open your eyes. Look around. It’s different, isn’t it?

Take a second.

Step with the wind. Sift gently the ashes. Tilt your head, make room on your shoulder. Dip your ankles in the water. Press the trunk to your breast.

Take a second. You’re happy. You’re safe.

Now start to run!

Kick at the ground soundly. Wave your arms in the air. Dive deep to the depths. Climb higher and higher.

Where are you? Look around. It’s different, isn’t it?

Over there a cycle of breezes, giggling, beckoning your smile.

Over here a new growth, a bud, nourished by fire.

High above circle your loved ones, with long, fanned tails.

A wave sees you and rises, picks up speed to meet you, kiss your toes shyly.

In your hands a pile of mud. Water. Sun. Seed. A promise. Life.

There. You’ve arrived.

Take another second.

Take a second forever.

I’m done being done.

I’m me again, now.

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