Like the Saguaros

Published in Twisted Ink Webzine ~ Spring 2010

How many times have I fled
Into the maw of yet another trap
to be able to see the right turns,
We have to be able to see the wrong ones
That foresight doesn’t happen often
Not for me
Not in my world
Where instinct is dulled by the concept of blending in
Because so often
That is the easier option
For the time being anyway.
I want to be like the wild Saguaros
For Saguaros can be shot full of holes
Carved upon
Knocked over
Stepped on
And still they live,
Still they store life-giving water
Still they grow wild and repair themselves over time
Yet the Saguaro has all the time in the world
It feels as if
I have mere seconds
Mere flashes of an eyelash
To heal the holes I have shot in myself
The scars I have carved deep into flesh
The wounds that heal halfway
Only to be ripped open again
Torn to bleeding
In the wreathing smoke clouds
The sweet seduction of booze
The laughter of everyone I am with
Everyone I didn’t want to forget.
Maybe if I try hard enough
I will come back as a Saguaro
In my next life
I think that will be a step up
Maybe if I learn
To not waste [my] time hating a failure
I will become something
Something as peaceful as
A Saguaro
Then again
I have always detested being bad at things
I am bad at letting go
Better at sticking with things I know I can do well
Maybe that is why
Some people become career criminals
Maybe they are simply good at that
And nothing else
No matter how twisted or straight
Broken or whole
We can always find things we have in common
We like to think we are better than certain people
We really aren’t.
In so many ways
It doesn’t matter
It is just easier to focus on others
Than on me
On the realization
I have utterly and completely lost it
Undergo the familiar battle
Until I feel IT
The joy a woman feels when she has done
Something that she feels dogged about
That she feels intense about
Something that took risk
Something that made her stretch
Best herself
And succeed—maybe gracefully
Maybe not
But she did it
Created something
The someone
The art
The battle
The moment
Her life
My life.
Then I can paint again
I can write again
I can laugh again
I can look past the failures
Look instead at what I have accomplished
I have survived paying the price
Rebuilt from the ashes
I let myself burn to
Grown again
Like the Saguaro grows anew.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s