a pebble hit the windshield
it was so inconsequential that the sound didn’t even register as the steam fogged the windows and the tears filled my eyes.
of course i’m not in my car
no, instead i am wrapped up in blankets
cocooned from the world
unwilling to emerge from my safe wrappings
and absorb the harsh realities that await me.
instead, i burrow deeper into myself
forced to confront those quiet corners in my mind that are so filled up with you.
your ideas, your thoughts, your rhythms, your scent.
that soft grumbling you make before turning over, once again submitting to the puppet master of your dreams
that fierce charisma you infect me with; dulling my self-doubt, criticisms
shaking anew the infinite possibilities of me.
as i grapple with this corner, the air feels fresh
the safety of the cocoon feels more and more like a trap
between the me you see and the ME i will become
the layers shed quickly now
realizing the part they play in our separateness
in my obstacle course of becoming
becoming not a butterfly
becoming the being i am meant to be
who i always was and who i forever crave to be
a small ping from a tiny “pebble” that birthed the Big Bang, one quiet night on a cold, still, stale, February night.