November 16, 2014
I stood there, struggling as the earth swayed beneath me.
Rocking between two spaces
One constricting, one comforting
I forgot how long I had ben there, rocking steady.
Adjusting my weight so that ropes would not cut into my skin.
There were marks regardless, red patches of brown skin straining against the weight of my body.
I moved slowly, keeping my balance, trying to find a space in which I could not feel pain. Allowing my conscious to slip, then bringing it back. Steady.
Absorbing my environment feeling my pain start to melt with the passing of time.
I waited. I balanced myself.
Goose feathers balanced on the taught twine.
Falling, replacing, attempting to balance as they fell with every breeze.
Floating out of my grasp, making it harder to move.
My movements limited by the constraints around me, I tried to balance more.
It was futile, my attempts to steady within these two world I inhabit.
Each moment passing as if they were feathers in the wind.
I remained bruised, my arms and legs carrying bright welts. History had not forgotten me.