my inside voice

(f)reezing

I run cold.

I blame my roots. I blame the peppers in my bloodstream, the curry in my cells. I blame the Alamo, where I learned to breathe deep, where I learned to carry rebellious sunshine in my windpipes.

The world is a tall glass of ice resting too near my inner flame. It leaves a residue where we touch. It leaves a thousand cold, wet kisses.

My hands freeze in mid-range temperatures, so badly they cramp until they lose feeling altogether. I wait for the numbness, my body shivering it’s way through a marathon until it is still.

I run cold.

My skin raises to the challenge. It is a warrior nation, each pore standing tall. Alone, their fearlessness would be undetected. Together, even strangers can see my protest– my make-shift armor of goosebumps and chills.

The kisses are exhausting, the armor is heavy, the pushing between fight or flight leaves no room for appetite or thought,

but I eat on the patio now.

I ask for the table outside.
I sit by the beach.

I leave the windows open and breathe in the cold air, because I am no longer shackled to the inside. I am no longer denied the sight of the moon, the wind, the world.

I am once again able to move, to exist, to run.
So I do, I run.

I run cold.

I shiver into my seat, pulling my leather jacket over my zipped up hoodie, over my sweater. It is in the 70’s today.

I came prepared.

My hands reach out to hold my soda, and the waitress gently lets me know that there’s room inside.

I am happy here, I tell her, so she asks if I am sure.

No, I am not.

But I am free,
and for awhile more, my roots can freeze,
as I celebrate
my wings.

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5 comments

  1. Beautiful, beautiful, and yet…I suppose with your perspective, so different. Mine is all focussed on how to stay warm, how to not freeze, not cramp, not purple-and-white-and-goosebump in the mild.

    Hot water bottles and blankets all the way, baby, and thank GOODNESS I have the luxury.

    Liked by 1 person

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