My Vibrant Life

 Random photos  - 

South Africa on a hot hot hot day....

I don't  want to pound the cushions with my fists

I don't want to take deep continuous breaths

I don't want to wriggle and shake and shout.

I want to curl into a tight comma

with my arms clutching the boulder of my head 

and weep a thousand tears.

So I do that for a bit - bleeding snot and dribble.

But my gentle teacher keeps talking to me.

The rage, the despair, the fear are all locked in

my cells

 she says, not in my tears.

My vibrant life is shut away in there too

unless I give it a voice 

 A stand-up-and-be-heard voice

 not a whisper.

So in the end ,

because I'm a good girl

and I want to grab my vibrant life

before I dissolve in resignation

before I get ill to escape it,

I rear up over the cushions with the hammer of my fists 

and my voice of fire 

which comes from some

deep,forbidden place 

which screams

I don't want to do it.

I won't do it.

I won't 

I won't 

I won't.

I never say that in my real life.

 I say I don't want to, but do it anyway

 try and make the best of it.

And of course I will.

 I will look after Robin.

  Because I choose to

 not because I have to

knowing now,

 in  my cells

 what I won't and what I will do.

For the sake of 

my vibrant life.