An Ode to Dissociation : She

She is a vision
I speak into existence
Whenever I need a stuntman
When the glass house I live in becomes too opaque
She cleans the windows
Introduces transparency into my world

I am a worm that crawls underground
And only comes up to breathe when it rains
I don't like the rain
Or card games
Or telling stories I don't believe belong to me
Nothing belongs to me

It all belongs to her
A girl with no face
Or body
Or history
Too many theories and narratives
And opinions.

When I falter with half truths
Editorialize the vulnerability
Out of the script I read daily
She will breathe life into my stories
Because borrowed stories
Always stay safe


When I stumble over my words
Trying to tell that story
That ends tragically with me on my knees
She will replace the words me with her
And knees with childhood
And tell more than the story of a
Mason jarred fireflies and tumbleweed adventured
Carefree girl


But I'm the only one who has knees here
And they're filthy from trying
To escape the grave
I keep digging myself into
Or the version of childhood
I keep editing
Or forgetting even belongs to me.
But it's starting to rain
And I don't really want to come out
I'm afraid the grave will fill up with water
And I'll drown
And I know she has no life jackets
I can hear the hail,
I'm terrified it'll the glass
And shatter the things that protect me most.