its grasp

Humming electricity surged through the air overhead.  It lent a charge to my soul that made my heart race faster than I’d known possible.  My lungs and legs burned.  My hands left bloody prints on the dirt each time I stumbled, scrambled for purchase, and continued in my frenzied escape.  The panting of my pursuer was lost under the rush of wind in my ears, the pounding in my chest, and the ragged sucking gasps coming from my own mouth.

It would catch me.  I knew it with a certainty that should have allowed me enough calm to stop and meet my fate.  But, I could not fight it, and I wasn’t ready to die, so flight was the only option.  And flee I did.  And flee I continued to do.

The path dropped down a cascading layer of cobbled rocks, which add a beauty to the mountain trail during the day despite the havoc they cause in strides and joints and are deathly treacherous in the dark.  The moon, full of course, shared just enough light that I could correct my course before slipping to my doom, but I still found myself in the dirt again.  My hands had gone numb and I no longer felt the damage I was causing them as I pushed myself forward into a renewed sprint.

It would rend flesh from bone.  I wondered if I’d still be alive as it shredded my skin and its jaws pulled chunks from me.  I didn’t want to ponder what that would feel like, but the thoughts came unbidden and I was powerless to stop the flow of images and shuddering sensations.

Branches lashed against my arms and face, filling my nose with the smell of iron and salt laced pine.  The leaves rustled, unheard, in a gentle breeze running the length of the valley.  The colder air filtered down from the higher elevations to replace the heat of the day.  The coolness was welcome as it pressed against my flushed skin and provided a temporary sense of relief.  Then a branch snapped behind me sent another pulse of adrenaline coursing through me and my body returned to its state of fire.

It would kill me.  It would.  It will.  It must.  And it would almost be a relief to my tired mind and flagging body if it were to happen quickly, painlessly.  Except, life still holds so much more than the unknown of death.  There are mountains to climb.  There are rivers to cross.  There are lips to kiss.  And, what adventure is there in death?  Who knows.  Who wants to find out when there is still so much known adventure in the here and now.

It would catch me.  If I stop.  If I let it.  But, maybe, if I keep racing, if I keep going, if I keep refusing to give in to fear and the certainty of it, I’ll stay forever beyond its grasp…
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You growled and hissed, and still you were loved.

You lashed and gnashed, and still you were loved.

You were a scaredy-cat at first, and then a meany-cat at the end, and still you were loved.

You had your humans, though.  The ones you let get close.  The ones you were sweet on.  You picked them long ago and were fiercely loyal to them and them alone.  They got to see you for who you were.

The years passed, and still you were loved.

You were tired and sick, and still you were loved.

It was love for you that made the final decision heartbreaking.  You will be missed.  It was love for you that made the final decision essential.  No more pain.

smudgy, fuzzy, twitchy

I flicked the light on  with a wince in anticipation of the flash of pain that usually accompanies the early morning ritual.  The stubborn shadows, smudgy, refused to follow protocol and remained ensconced where they were before I introduced the glowing bulb to their world.  I attempted to blink them into cooperation, but their will was stronger than mine.

I wanted to quote Dangerfield, “no respect,” but my brain, fuzzy, couldn’t get my mouth to work.  Understanding that things weren’t happening as they should, my mind started the routines to check for damage, until it realized that the mouth was busy with a yawn and therefore unavailable for words.  Once the yawn was finished, my mind tried to initiate speaking again but I’d forgotten what I wanted to say.

I moved forward choosing to ignore the insolence of the shadows and their refusal to perform as expected.  Perhaps it was too early for them, as well.  Couldn’t blame them for that.  And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to fully ignore the spots of darkness either.  My eyes, twitchy, sought them out in their wrongness and watched for the movement that would send them to where they belonged and would signal I had finally woken.

That was this morning.

I’m still waiting.

I can see the shadows, out of place still, stalking the periphery.

I fear they are waiting for me to forget them…

it hurts my heart

Head held high, she strides into the system,
(Did they handcuff her?  Did she tell her beloved goodbye?)
Unashamed but tired of fighting,
She knows her fate is not yet written.
(Will it really be a year?  Did they tell her why?)

So much time had passed, her life had gained some peace,
(Statute of limitations? How long could they leave this?)
Shattered but no time for crying,
I want to pick up the banner and march in the streets.
(I’m disappointed in our nation. I want to call it quits.)


Do you remember when you were a child and had complete faith in the police, our government, and our systems?  You knew that good people would be proven innocent and that bad people would end up jail…

As we aged, and saw that the world is much more complex than our naive minds could process, a bit of our faith died.  We realized that there are still humans behind each of those systems and humans are frail and prone to error.  We aren’t even smart enough to put in the checks and balances that would ensure our mistakes were caught by others.  We try, but we fail.

I’ve only met her in person 3 times, but, in the time I have known her, I know her to be a good person, and I am proud to call her a good friend.  But, right now she is in a bad way because the system if failing her.

Today I grew up a little bit more.  Today I can see our world a little bit clearer and I don’t like what I see.  It isn’t pretty and it hurts my heart.


A Sign of Life: We Are Not Bloggers

Not a Punk Rocker: I don’t Know What to Say

Behind the Mask of Abuse: Innocent paying the price again…

To Breathe is to Write: My Heart Hurts Today

please call again

Eyes strain against the light,
My palms covering them,
Offer little comfort,
Raw red stinging torture,
No release from their plight.

Sleep attacks with brute force,
I sluggishly fend off,
Looming grasping darkness,
Attached to fleeting thoughts,
I cannot stay this coarse.

The onslaught is too great,
My mind is overthrown,
Drifting downward deeper,
Awareness has left me,
Giving in to my fate.

Perhaps my dreams will soothe my ache…

Perhaps you should return when I wake…