Monthly Archives: August 2015


I wrote this last night and I’m really quite proud of it.

Some days it feels like your limbs weigh half a ton and they anchor you to your bed. You can look outside your bedroom window and see the sun and the trees and the sky, but you are trapped; restrained in the grip of the blue beast whose arms are covered in fur. In the beginning, the fur feels prickly like a wool sweater and you ache to get rid of it, but over time the over-stimulation of the rough texture makes you numb. You’d fight it off if you could feel. The numbness becomes normal and your old life is like a phantom limb. It sometimes feels like the person you used to be is still there, but you look down and see that the hole in your chest is still hollow.

One day you might catch a glimmer of the old you staring back through the mirror and you reach out to caress the cheeks flushed with vivacity. The apparition smiles warmly and whispers, ‘you will be okay,’ and it doesn’t resonate within you as something possible. Days go by and the vision of your old self manifests again in the mirror, its eyes sparkling with life and joy. ‘You will be okay,’ it repeats and you startle at the flutter of hope that awakens in your gut.

Each day the vision becomes clearer and the voice grows louder as it chants, ‘you will be okay.’ The hope that you thought had died in you was simply dormant, like a tulip buried in snow that bursts from the earth at the mention of spring. The cocoon the blue beast had placed around you begins to crack and the shards of your despair crumble as you claw your way out of what had become your life. You emerge from your ordeal and stand tall again. The hole in your chest has scarred over, reminding you of what you came from, what you were and that you are a survivor.