Libra by Patricia Aline

Handcuffed my heart to the bed posts of my chambers

To keep me reminded of the tears i stained on

Cotton pillows.

Stream turn flooded linens

keep me

In remembrance of where home is.

Whisper so i won’t forget how traumas make familiar duvet covers,

Pain, my satin fitted sheets;

Home.

Stomped your sincerity and

Stymied my spirit’s natural verve to pounce. Stagnant,

i stay where i once found comfort until you showed me what security looked like.

But where my extremes feel like native lands, your balance felt like intrusion,

Colonization of my established systems to self sabotage, you

Felt like danger. So i defended.

I chose fight, i chose flight, 

i chose kick, i chose 

scream, i chose

Come, i chose 

go. I

Flamingo’d with the fluency of ambiguity as we danced until your feet wore tired of my polarities.

Gray. 

You did well in the grays of it all. You did well in your center. 

Would’ve done well in mine. Had

I not run.

Had i

Not chosen to Icarus too close to the extremes of my fires and burn our hopes or

Too close to the wading waters of my insecurities. Had i,

Chosen to nomad in the grays, play in the realms of balance.

These days, in subtle ways, i crawl out the blacks and whites to look for you in the middle hues

whimper like a puppy forsaken to her own wits

I

Wait for you.

To tell me to hurry back home.......to

give me permission to forget about you but

Even more often, 

I wait for synchronicity to breathe speed into our feet. To run.

Away.

So that I may no longer know a native home. So I may immigrant myself to new lands.

Where center, where balance, where we

Reside.

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