Little warns of an arrival, neither blush of skin nor vision blur but out from my mouth sharp words like shards of chewed glass. I’m still in here, I realize each time.
No internal censor, blocking words that cut. Gone is the guiding sense to do no harm. Only later can I look inside, to step along the path to the precipice where I scream into void. This happens more often now, the poison expulsion, the guilty introspection, often when I am alone.
I rail at myself, the frailty and foolishness, the mortality and introversion of me. I know no cure for this dissociation that makes of me the second person, the target of “you’re so stupid”.
Knowing seconds later that neither you nor I deserve such abuse, backwards I step along the path, away from the edge, back to the place where I am no longer you.
Hopeville Community Center 