Death Stems

I've been spiral walking

Compelled to search for wisdom in circles ever tightening

Or called to seek the light from the depths of too much hibernating

Call it what you like

Call it finding the divide between safety and smothering

Or prying at what lies between nourishing and suffocating

Either way, I've been making a project of retreading my own footsteps

But found only imperfect pathways refracting backwards through time

Body yearning to push past new thresholds

When the air is choked with the ghosts of old crossroads

They are spider silk echoеs

And the more I struggle, thе more they cling to my skin

Wrap me oil slick opalescent and gossamer thin

And they snag in my throat as I try to get better at breathing

I am learning about building from the inside out

Reconstructing myself from stones mined in the pit of my stomach

Or dredged up from the lumps in my throat

I am not afraid of creation

My fingers shake with the work

But no decay will find purchase on my unsteady foundations

I will tear away any debris that keeps me from my centre

Then use it to grow the walls that will one day shield my altar

There is no glamour here

I am not striving for opulence

Come hail, hurricane, or history, I will be my own monument

Because lately, I've been circle-swimming daily

I keep wading into the same revelations and coming out green

Bone-cold and waist-deep, ankles tangled in pondweed

Sputtering always on the same skipping stone river rock

Question, how often have I swallowed pollution?

How many times have I corroded my throat just to keep the air clean?

And sure, I've been in the habit of subsisting, asphyxiating

But there is wisdom in knowing there's no growth without consumption

And I am not the only glutton for oxygen in this ecosystem

Most organisms will duplicate until they drive you to extinction

And they will not mean to

Like me, they are only doing what the myths in their synapses tell them to

We are all cribbing from the same old fable

That every cell that exhales is born knowing it must eat in the right light

When algae blooms, it looks just like a blanket

But all that softness is deceptive

And the fact is there's not much difference

Between a weight that drags you down and one that helps you sleep

And to be honest, I've been cycle-steeping for weeks

Thinking about how many habitats will be strengthened by my exit

But I'm sick of sucking out the poison

And not sticking round to reap the benefit

Death stems from life and life from death, yes

It wreathes through flesh, and bones are bleached, and the cycle never ends

But there's no honour to be found in allowing yourself to be devoured

At least not while your heart still beats, it's too easy

Passing a season knee-deep in dark earth and calling that courage

Or forcing the epilogue and white-knuckle wrestling the narrative

I am noble, but that does not mean I must be sacrificial

I will not fall on the first sword in the next woods I see

I will not enjoy the pull of soft soil for longer than is healthy

I may spiral, but I will not sink

I will not write the last line ahead of time and call that peace

As I am now, so you shall be

For I am all I know and there is nothing wrong with me