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Filed under: BPD, Mind, Primal, Words | Tags: memory, Mental Health, Pain, repression, rewind
Callousness betrays a scar
where once was a point of contact
now grows a buffer, a thickening
around experience, a heavy lens
to divert the light
and bend to a more comprehensable shape
no longer merely what is
but what we want it to have been
or nothing at all
I notice things…
like that night
on the beach down south
in the half-moonlight
Our footprints
glowing in the dark
or the not quite dark
as we walked the shoreline
I almost didn’t say anything
since it had nothing to do with
what we were talking about
but on the edge of vision
the wet sand that registered
our footsteps
with a barely perceptible glow
that dissipated into the world
of half-moonlight
I also noticed
your friend’s husband
goosing you that time
when we were all
in the kitchen
getting ready to barbecue
I heard you yelp
saw your little dance
on tiptoes
and then you went about
your business
like nothing happened
And then there was the time
when my best friend was visiting
and you were reclining on the couch
in your baggy short shorts
giving a show
something in you was trying
not to notice
and I was trying
not to let the gauntlet
hit me in the guts
How reckless at times
our careening path
like stunt drivers
with blindfolds
Now at the end of the road
that folds blindly
blame goes the way
of recollection
the glow of footsteps
absorbed into sand
