Pebbles tumble though the blood stream,
Sending quakes of terror
Into the organs,
Searching ambitiously for your core –
The soul of human flesh.
A soft, gentle hand rests against
Your shivering back –
Rubbing ever so kindly.
This palm with five fingers
Calls your retreating body and
Mind from the white water rapids,
Then pounces the creature giving haste
To the pebbles bursting forth.
A breath heaves into your throat
Followed by a slow and jagged pull inward.
Yet this hand
Continues its caress
Without a word
Protecting your soul, and
Sending shockwaves to your mind
You are not alone.
Ollie SideNote: This poem is based on an event that happened 2 years ago, soon after which I made a stint in four different psychiatric wards. Still struggling with many of the same issues today, I want to remember that moment of friendship and connection. I have not spoken to this friend much at all – the first I ever admitted to feelings of gender confusion; tonight I want to remember the truth in that memory, for I’ve been feeling mighty lonely these days.