depression as a magickal place

like sinking into the center of Earth, with
her weight upon you. feeling each layer of her—
crust   mantle  outer core
—reverberate through you, as if
your body
is an expression
of her grief.
with your tears,
you will refill her aquifers,
cleanse her rivers,
purify her streams.
your cries will awaken humanity.
with your blood,
you will fertilize new life.

 

like crossing from kansas to oz, into
saturated colors. jarring, discordant hues—
electric blue   army green   mustard yellow
—in the distance, you can see
willowy figures with
carnelian skin and
chrysocolla eyes,
an air of menace surrounding
tiny rapier teeth that glint
in greenish sunlight.
you turn to run, only to find
that now,
you have grown roots.

 

like becoming one of the living dead, except
completely aware. combining volatile materials—
oppression   assault    madness
—propelled you into a new dimension,
a shadow universe.
you endure, in parallel
with the living.
they peer at you with furrowed brows
as if they can see
where you used to be.
you move through crowds of them
as an apparition, desiring
but unable
to achieve indifference.
your mind, light years
in the future
your body, trapped
by the past.

 

like witnessing the end of all living things, and
experiencing each death individually. knowing each one—
intimately   intricately   intensely
—existing for an eternity in
that last second,
where life is considered with regret
in the space before breath
is extinguished.
dying eight billion deaths,
resurrecting yourself,
perpetually reaffirming
your belief in your own
divinity.

 

 

 

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