#savingyourself

[wakemewhendinnerisready]

Saving Yourself

I just have to keep holding my own hand.

I have to keep pushing myself forward to understand the feeling of living.

To understand what it's like taking a fresh breath without exhaustion following.

Removing the warm fuzzy blankets from my body when the sun shines through my windows needs to be with purpose.

I need the motivation that swings my legs around the side of the bed, letting my feet come in contact with the ice cold wooden floors.

Right now I am too stuck in my own head, running solely off my imagination.

My impulsive thoughts have control of my wheel.

I am stuck on this ride, strapped into a rollercoaster that only stops once my heart-line does.

Once I take my last breath and my eye lids become too heavy.

Yet I don’t want my story to say I just took my seatbelt off and jumped off my ride.

I want it to say that I gripped the rubber handle in front of me and existentially rode through my spiraling death.

I just have to keep holding my own hand.

[bobvsuniverse]

WHAT SAVED ME

Over the hills

outside town

across the wide fields

the cut corn stalks

and converging roads

  past the wide spaces

where hills rise

above the leaves letting loose

from a ridge of maples and beech

the dead elms and ash

  the slate clouds

pass under the streaks of sun

coming and going

and a haze billows down

through the light

  distant rain, a filmy scarf

of release…  I am on my way

somewhere, so is it,

its motion is made

into molasses, like mine,

  the syrup

of time inside time

we are the same

I know it now

blossoming.

  *

 Earlier the little creeks

far back in the cedars

  spilled and clung

and foamed

  over rocks

over clear clear sands

  over tracks of deer

and coyote.

  My little dog could sense a bear

passed there

  the spring that gurgles up

into the grass and runs,

  the birch trunks

streak into the still river

  mirror moving, moving

but barely stirring

  *

  and after dark, when I needed it most

when the radio and the road

conspired to make me heave

behind the wheel

trying to stay some course

some inexplicit unknowable way

between being a killer or the killed—

the bloodstains in a silent kitchen

filling with crows—

I saw the moon.

  *

 A friend shows me a picture

of a persimmon

floating just above the trees.

  In the glowing gloaming

just passed, the light behind a scooting cloud

for a moment, bright as straw

  emerges again

a lovely face, tipped, reflective

bigger than the lit paper globe

  you hold out

in the firefly summer

just to let it go until it disappears

  so far over you do not remember.

  *

  It is not summer now.

We wait for some cataclysm

  we wait for something to save us

and then that moon,

  bigger than any streetlamp

hanging there

  joined these other miracles

and they saved me.

  ***

    —Bob Vance

[damn-anotherangel]

This was just a little #ZenDrawing I did to try and #Ground. The idea as it was told to me was to #JustDraw. Don't try to make it look like something, just #LetItHappen. #SelfCare is important, and I have been trying a few suggestions. #ThinkPozitive about your #SketchArt. You may be #SavingYourself #SpaceArt #Wizardry