first step.

she tells me it’s my fault, that i’m imposing my identities into her illustrious life. she burns cherry red with anger, lips aquiver and viper-like visages vibrate in spectacular 8d colors.

my soul splits like a poorly made souffle, shuffling sadly down sidewalks, still avoiding the cracks because even after all the flames and fury ferociously directed my way, i still love her unconditionally and desire no destruction on her being.

her conditions set in like corrugated cardboard, flimsy yet sturdy enough to pack up all my things inside to move far away from all that i have ever known. i pack with precision, picking and pulling parental approval dejectedly out of my cardboard box, but desperately hoping there is still time to take it with me, to polish it.

i pack the essentials. my they is treasured, a truly transcendent theology, and treasures will always triumph through transitions and tantrums. a she or three is stuffed between the hidden hes, and riley is laid gently on top, newly minted and fragile still like a glass figurine. these terrific treasures cocoon me with cotton padding and golden yellow sunbeams that dance like the colors behind my eyes when lo-fi vibes embed their emotion.

the faded old door looms dramatically in front of me, stretching through the sky and behaving more like a wall than a door. she stands inside, watching with crows feet and erupting volcanic eyes, as i exit and am engulfed in the elegant embrace of eternity.

box in hand, treasures entangled, and loss looming like necrotic narcissism, we step through anyway and leave loves and loss in our wake- but we know that it is better to be known in the unknown than to be unknown in the known.