In this flat light it is hard to tell where I stand.
I walk past a building, or a space that holds some ghost of an emotion, and it seems like I am still there, hanging in the past.
A face conjures up some draft of an idea that I am unable to reconcile with the current circumstances.
I was so broken… so utterly irredeemable, and yet here I am; all shiny and new. I wear matching clothes and I pretend not to know how transparent my mask has become.
Everything is on the surface, so that it blends in with the passing of the seasons. I wear the loss of alternatives just like a bad tattoo.
But everyone seems to have tattoos these days.
You are real. You are who you are, and I wouldn't change a thing. Your life experiences have shaped you into Taylor Hunt. I know how you feel, in a way... be glad for today. Be glad you are shiny and new. You have been recreated.
ReplyDeleteVery well written!
ReplyDeleteIf a scratched up mind is incompatible with the present moment then what is? No mind escapes undamaged, not just ours, and without awareness of our minds how would we be aware of now?
ReplyDeleteI think, T., that it is actually the scratches and the cracks that let the light in. Otherwise the glass we were born with was too dark. I'm so glad you made it here, spiritual bad tattoo and all.