Lift Off

As I leave my body on stage I do not go far. I am up a little to the right, watching her. She’s doing great.

Inside she feels destructive and lost. Humiliated and afraid.

As always, she continues.

I come back after a blip and my eyes stay open. It’s over. Every audience member that talks to me looks like a flashlight and tells me things that heal lifetimes.

I often think about where I come from. I see quiet scenes of survival. Peeking through dark doorways that bounce the screaming sounds softer off the walls. Running to hide behind my bed as I hear heavier footsteps on the stairs. I hold my breath, always. I know how to make no sound.

I’ve dressed shapeless monsters  in love and light. Remaining confused, how any of it could have been. Many people have said what I’ve seen isn’t true, drape  my memories in a fine silk. I remain questioning.

When my friends reach to touch me as they laugh, I flinch.