Sunday, April 5, 2009
I am hurtling through space. The icy blackness whips through my hair always changing, darker, longer, blonder. One day is a second and I’m flickering and flailing and tumbling. People whiz with me and by me, all of us racing through time and life. We crash into each other, cut into one another, our trajectory changes and friends glimmer away and toward me. Christ pulls me behind him with chords of silk easily broken for a boy who kisses me and strikes me and disappears and reappears for thousands of shuddering days. Friends orbit around me until they explode against someone else and are shot into other directions or maybe I push them and for many seconds I am alone. I run into someone, and another and another and they fly by with words of love and knives and my blood splatters. I have a knife in my hand too and words I want to scream but I am lost and changing and I just want to stop flying and falling and hurting. I flicker rapidly getting smaller and darker and less familiar and friends try to hold on but the wind spins them toward other Futures. The flesh of the past accumulates under my fingernails and my hands are raw raw from grabbing and holding and breaking. I just want to stop. I want to stop. I want to stop. I crash into a star and we hold each other like parachute jumpers but it lets go and grabs me back and lets go and there's something wrong inside of me. Someone crash into me please, and don’t let go. No, not someone, just one. I am speeding towards you, love. I am hurtling with you, Christ. Catch me, catch me, catch me, please.