When "We" Becomes Me

The other day we noticed another part of ourselves,

like a neglected limb, it had been there all along.

Familiar and strange, simultaneously.

Simultaneous by nature, silent by nurture.

What should we do with such a new sensation? It’s been

so long since we’ve tried flexing its muscles, getting the blood pumping,

our first efforts to use

the limb

resembled a

minuet-old foal standing.

Back in the days of ponytails, jellies,

orange cream push pops, big-box TVs, and

fresh vacuum lines in the carpet.

There was a smaller we, like a carbon paper copy,

but bigger in many ways--

A bigger heart and bigger dreams to fill it up.

Bigger eyes full of falling stars, gazing at the image that bathes us in light.

On the screen, glowing with the golden aura of rapid-fire and

exoskeletons exploding acid blood, stands

Pvt. Jenette Vasques,

Colonial Marine,

having Xenomorph for breakfast.

And it’s EVERYTHING...

An alien to our own mind, how does the limb fall

Sometimes at our feet, shining, twinkling, or behind us just out of reach.

The path of least resistance laid before us,

Cool rivers of acceptance and admiration wet our brow

Stained blood red and poisoned, we slowly choke on water unfit for the divine.

Finally, we

break free of it.

Oh, you’re just experimenting.

In clear goggles and a queer labcoat, we pull out our flasks of bubbling colors,

We mix them over and over, hoping we can create the concoction that is “me”

One that can withstand the rapids and waterfalls that lie ahead.

We are called “mad scientist.”

It’s all for nothing, I’ve realized the mistake that’s been made.

What I am made of is already here, every ingredient needed.

no experiment, no personality quiz needed.

It’s safe and nurtured by the warmth inside my flesh and bones and I’ll

Keep it

there

safe and sound.