Awake, fresh eyes crack. It hurts for just a second as dawn’s light washes me.
After a long, walking sleep, I’m relieved to see the sun again. “Felt like night forever,” I say to her with a bittersweet mix of thanks and regret. “Thank you for waking me.”
The monsters lurking in my room transform before me. They were but a coat flung carelessly over a chair. A house plant. A stack of magazines. It all seemed so real.
Yesterday’s story of who I was fades into hazy memory, only her fingerprints remain. I wipe them from the mirror and comb bits of eggshell from my hair.
Prisms in my window take apart the light and present me with every color. They speak to me of metamorphosis. And what is metamorphosis if not that? Taking apart who you thought you were and building something more, using the very same pieces you began with.
My new story begins today. I will tell it through the words of love until the world reflects love back to me. Then, I will tell it again.
Even as I leave the warmth of this cocoon, I will not be lost easy. I will envelope myself with the peace that stirs inside me now.
I place a hand over my heart and feel it tap the beat for my gentle, lilting step.
Bending, I release the ache of stiff, sleeping limbs. I give my eyes time to remember how to see in the light. And, balanced on tattered toes, I point myself to Venus and Mercury just before they disappear into the blue sky. My wings unfurl around me.
What if I sank smiling when doubt said I should? I wonder.
Tenderly, I remind myself that clear transcends obsession.
But who am I to speak these words in the face of ought and overthought? What is truth and what I dare?
Human, I suppose. That’s got to be enough by now.