Gravel

My younger years were spent with my head in the cement and bruises on my legs. A frivolous child who ran before learning how to walk. Blood never scared me; neither did falling. As I have changed from a girl into a woman, curiosity has eaten my mind. I am constantly looking for the reasons that make up who I have become. Maybe my running, which more often than not turned into falling, has caused me to shake when I am alone. The cracks in the uneven driveway were not made by my clumsy moments but I spent enough time on that ground to know where the insects hide.

And now I hide. 

Not behind loose gravel, but small lies that make up a person who is not real. If you know me then you know how I felt when I saw that man zip up his pants for the first time as I laid on the bathroom tile. You know that I couldn't eat that one summer because two hands held addiction and heartbreak - so I held them without thinking. Maybe you know that I can't let someone undress me without showing more than my body. You know I don't sleep soundly or silently. You know that there are pillows on the floor next to my bed and one song looped on my radio for when it happens.

My exaggerated answers to small questions have played the role of a magician. A mirror and not a conversation.

July 25, 2025