At Bay

Garrote the senses until I see stars.

Crush my bones, I need to hear something crack.

It’s all been so underwhelming, loving you.

Shouldn’t I have been given more than I could stand?

I’m ready to be overwhelmed, to inhale something new, to feel blood pumping through my veins.

The wind doesn’t blow through my hair or mold the dress to my body, outlining my curves like the movies do. Nor does the sun shine warm, just at the perfect angle on my face.

Moments like these only happen in the obliviousness of being lost, unaware in our humanness.

Not some movie scene where it has been rehearsed a hundred times over with the perfect lighting.

Shouldn’t I be breathless with all that’s right?

Not just pacified with a spot of good here and a pot of honesty there?

I should be entrenched in knowledge and proud to freely give it away.

I want to give myself away, every bit of me.

I don’t need me anyway.

This isn’t a poem,

a musing at best,

in search of freedom

pushing past barriers to see

what’s on the other side.


16 thoughts on “At Bay

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