The Snow globe in my hand.

Does it hurt? No.

Here? No.

Here? I don’t know.

Here? Fuck yeah.

Right X1. 

Front X2.

Back X3.

Left X4. I don’t fucking know.

 

What you want? I don’t know.

What do you feel? Nothing.

Really? Ja.

Here? Fuck that.

 

She strikes my leg and says don’t worry it’s all gonna be OK.

 

Mixed messages

The week screams “run fast - but stand still!” 

Rest and toxicity sweet and salty intoxicating.

love and satisfaction 

fear and grief and 

shutting down

 

And here? No.

Come on at least try.

Fuck I told you, I don’t feel anything.

Okay, you can do it, again, come on turn around, relax, concentrate.

 

I stare at my granny’s snow globe 

The glitter snow comes and goes

I cycle with the cycle.

Am I the snow?

Am I the bird?

The hand?

The globe?

 

The vein full of blood 

Drip drop on the floor, no stoppage 

We are all changing

Getting-through-another-day

 

A magic circle

joy love fear grief anger happy sad 

Is there a protocol for safety?

Knowing you are carried and loved.

My dreams bring me back into 

Green gras

Fresh alive 

Three naked bodies jump over daisies

Am I high?

The clouds drift away the sky so blue

They jump high in a loop

The image is stuck

Jump jump jump jump always from the left out of the frame and back again

I slip

 

It’s normal she says.

Let’s continue.

What do you feel? Nothing. 

Really?! Maybe, a bit. 

 

The snow-globe in my hand rocks me back into

 

The snake in my bed scares me

I try to like her, try to touch her, try not to feel fear or disgust

Her tongue slowly comes out.  She wants to lick me.

Licking or biting? Love or destruction?

I try to trust her,  push her away and fail. 

I turn, a brown bear looks at me, walks towards me.

His eyes deep and friendly. 

hugs me 

holds me 

tighter 

The snake - gone 

Bears soft fur soaks up my tears

Bear whispers: Your fear doesn’t have to be the end of the narrative , learn what’s on the other side.

Don’t stay when you don’t want to. Own your wantings, declare your desires.

 

The snow-globe in my hand. 

The cycles and the movement in between, learning how to gently move through it.

There are endings every day and nothing ever ends. 

A moment when you choose to be vulnerable.

 

It’s normal she says.

Let’s continue.

What do you feel? Nothing!

Come on give it a try!

 

She moves slowly and I observe carefully. 

An understanding I can resist or release. 

Can you go back there? 

Here?

Yes. 

Can you be gentle?

I will. 

 

The snow-globe in my hand.

Seeing the beauty and surprises.

Feeling what I ignored the first time. 

 

She goes back. 

Here?

Yes. 

 

____________

 

love and sleep well whenever you can.

yours hanna