brick.

i'm floating it seems
between forever and yesterday
above ice
below snow
and right past that place
where i remember what it was like to be

alone.

and it's the memory
of those caverns of darkness and despair
and the other terrible adjectives that could describe
a room so empty it echoes to itself.

it's that memory -- that one --
that haunts me still
whispering lies,
tickling my neck with its
b
a
n
t
e
r

taking my stomach back to the knots it once knew
the ones it so desperately tried to untangle with things like
music and food
or not.
and anyway, my stomach no longer has room for things like that
because it's wrapped in grace
and in the soft sweater of serenity

and it's full of the fluffiest down comforter
so when the knots come
they don't recognize the hollow they once inhabited
and when the fall with the force of a
BRICK
down deep where i bury them,
the cushioning lessens their impact
reminding me that i can choose to let them set up camp...
or to send them on their way
to find some other stomach to call home.