Out of body
I was there
Watching it happen
Like the man on the TV
I saw him shoot himself
Every time
I saw myself crash
The smell of blown airbags
Pieces of glass in my teeth
I Cut teeth
Still finding them in my shoes
On these tender feet
Weeks later
Like my first kiss
I swell
Like sitting in the bitch seat
Between two fat fuckers
Swollen
On a plane back home
I couldn’t breathe
Swallowing my mind
I couldn’t sit still
I grabbed on
To the leg next to my leg
And I closed my eyes
But I was never good at closing my eyes
I could never kiss a girl
With closed eyes
I drive my car
Sometimes
Steering with my legs
Seeing how far I can go
Seeing if I can make this next turn
Who am I?
Life is like this many times
Fresh
Open-eyed
experiences
With glass and scars
With heavy breathing
With it all.
Wow. This poem re-opens my senses to that fresh clean awareness of new experience.
Many perceptions get grimy with years of driving through life. Over the long-haul it becomes habitual to compare passing scenes with memories of things I’ve seen before. Such cross-referencing offers insights, yet it can also keep me from feeling the raw impact of what’s happening in the moment.
Thank you Tristan for this stunning reminder!