I was taking a break. I am…..taking a break, stepping away from myself. Or so I thought. I realized it is impossible. I am always around. I can’t step out of my skin or get out of my head. I can’t erase my years or escape the barbs of the fence I have been forced to traverse. No matter how much I want it, I can’t be anyone but me.
I felt better for a few days. I danced and felt the life in my blood and in my breath. But, it seems the good is always fleeting. I find myself feeling so heavy and motionless again, my breath weighing me down, my feet nailed to the earth. I sit here and think about writing and stare at the wall and wish I could dissolve into the air, slip free from the shackles that constrict my motion and incapacitate my thoughts.
I got a rejection this morning that hit me so hard. I knew it was coming, and yet when it came, I felt the wind knocked out of me. Stupidly, I thought if my poetry was accepted for this particular issue of this particular magazine, it would mean my poetry has value. I know it doesn’t work that way. I just got my mind wrapped so tightly around the idea, it was hard to let go. Joe helped me see that it was never the magazine that mattered, but the poems themselves. Some of the poems in this particular submission were some of the hardest I have ever written, took more out of me that most. I suppose I felt as if my hardest work ended up being crap. I know it doesn’t work that way. Intellectually, I get it. Emotionally, I am swallowing glass.