I collapsed. I fell. I lost myself in love drunk fantasies … in karmic delusions … in never-ending patterns of self-devotional laziness. Sabotage? Regret?
Remembering the times when it was too late … When I crawled into the light just as the door slammed shut. Repulsion in the mirror, in an empty room. Nothing to do but crawl around in my own filth and pray for a way to love it, be with it.
Remembering my strength, finding my footing on the dance floor. Wavering, cautious with injury. But slowly finding all the ways I can move again. Freedom takes so many forms. Finding aliveness in my body. Feeling comfort in this skin. Choosing to wake up is not the same as choosing pain.