The Hole poem

A few months ago, I drove up north for a few days and had a much needed break — part of what came out of that experience was the following insight and poem.


The hole

 

The Hole
c) Christine Lias

 

Floating above a great hole

Suspended

If I close my eyes I forget that the hole is there

There are moments

When I cannot breathe

The air

It goes I do not know where

I close my eyes

I forget that the hole is there

I do not know

when the hole will go

Or

how long I will be above the hole

Or

if I will fall from the hole

I cannot think about falling or I will fall

This is when I feel as if I cannot breathe

My lip starts to quiver

I put my arms out on either side of my body

For balance

My arms that have been a part of me for my whole life

My arms are strength

My arms have pushed me forward

They have held me up

I have fallen before

I breathe healing air

I know that I can breathe

The oxygen floods my brain

I am drunk with oxygen

My eyelids flutter

I do not have a plan how to move forward

away from the hole

But

I cannot think about the hole, or I will fall

I look down at my feet, one foot, and then the other foot

My square-shaped toes that have carried me forward to this point

My toes, my strong feet

They have walked hundreds of miles, and will walk hundreds more

I look down at my body, at my breasts, my hips

I feel tired

A woman’s body used by others

Left shamelessly on the side of the road

Tossed out the window like a cigarette

Without a goodbye

Or an apology.

Because all I really wanted was an apology.

 

Too trusting of the word love

As it slipped from their lips, the moment her bra strap slipped off her shoulders

She mixed the two words into a cocktail — love and sex

Feeling comforted on the cold nights

It don’t matter, she kept telling herself

Those demons come back to haunt you

Running away from the past

Getting into her car and driving away

She ends up driving with herself.

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