Red Ruin

Wrapped in a blanket of red, I come protected. Aware of the webs, the energetic sequences that bind us to each other. Learning to tuck away the open flows, the trickles of light that draw in the rest. It is not possible to lose, only to allow the water to suck into lungs and feel hopelessness. I used to imagine that one day I would find a way to be wise. To differentiate between the good and bad coming into my life. Now it comes, all of it comes without discrimination. Abundance of people, places and things and I follow the emotion to a seed. Patterns repeat until the lesson is learned and the rest falls away. The things I hold tight to begin to wear, tear, crumble through my fingers. I have no weight in this life, water bleeds through cracks and patiently exhumes my secrets. The fight is growing stronger but the hold on winning fades, no need to bring rage, to fuel resentment over pain. I am grateful for the porous ruin my heart tends to be, absorbing all the tenderness and aching like the beautiful mess it is. The veil is paper thin, movement on the other side, dancing figures fold over and stretch. Only this hollow place, the sensation of air breathing through and one after another I connect, I feel the edge of the music as it beats into my ears and embodies wholeness. I never knew I could feel this much and yet barely anything at all.