What do you fight for

when there is nothing in

your peripheral to fight for?

Each point of my body

is anchored tightly

to the earth and cries out

to be free to flow and weave.

But I’m stuck.

My body does not respond.

“RESPOND,” I yell at my knees,

“RESPOND!!” And yet nothing.

It’s as though my mind is

running on empty and my empty

is connected to my body.

(So I’m stuck).

I struggle against the anchors,

I fight against the currents

and I pray for the way of my world to change.

But like an hourglass the sand sifts downwards

away from me, it sifts down, down, down.

And I cry out for my father at night

when there is no one.

It’s as though yesterday he was taken

or left by his own free will.

I scream out for him and my tears find no end

until the morning when the heaviest of heavy

is on my body again.

How can I fight?

What is there to fight for?

Health? Happiness?

Can I be sure they exist in this life for me?

Can I be sure that I even deserve them if they do?

So I flash my hands back and forth

just to keep myself above the water’s surface.

(Just to breathe).

Even if my breath is quick with panic.

June 4, 2012