I am sitting here. At the phone. This is the phone where I announced a child was dying. Lauchie. I didn't know him well. But he is a huge part of me now. I was sitting at the craft table making David his 100th spongebob when Lara came over to me and said 'we need to call someone' and ran off. I turned around and Lauchie was lying down his Dad looking concerned. Lauchie started crying, like he had a little fall. I looked at my feet. Blood. From where? I look at Lauchie about 4 meters away. He's bleeding. My body kicks right into action. It's like a trance state but without the peace. Like I'm spinning off into space, the only thing holding me to earth is my determination to help. That happens in an instant. That instant feels like a slow 10 minutes but the next 10 minutes feel like an instant. Lara's at the phon 'who do I call?' she calls a code blue - or is it MET? - Dad screams for a fist aid kit I grab it and fumble fumblefumble fucking hands sta...
Sitting in my hotel writing sad songs Texting friends that I can't bear to talk to Wishing I was the version of myself that I envisioned Why haven't I sticked to what I want? Why is the world set up so I'd fail Why can't I see what my heart wants All I can see is what pop songs sing and lullabyes bring
My Missing Piece I felt stable and true like a clear lake. My pieces visible floating serenely. Now I feel pulled by forces outside, tides. To and fro my pieces are tumbled. There is no ignition point for these whirlpools. Pieces together smashed. They invade and turn clarity to a milky river, turbulent. Pieces are lost. Was this always here? This dirt and muck dragged and dredged up by the new currents. I am a freshwater lake suddenly connected to the ocean. One with the wider world. Yet those pieces that I need are floating across the world pulled by the massive force of the moon and winds and the cries. I must get used to the new rhythm of blood, white, blue, sticky hands and death.
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