Artemis Drifting

Just because she tippietoes, doesn't mean she's a creepin'.

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It was the first time

she ever walked

off the field

she took her shredded glove

her dented bat

and her cracked helmet

and went home

 

the sun had worn

that uniform to threads

pale and bruised

her skin flashed like 

the underside of a fish

through her jersey

 

her heat bleached hair

crackled like fire

beneath the faded cap

and blood fell like a 

crumb trail

as her cleats pushed

through the decaying

rubber soles.

  

Fallback.

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Another snippet morning, I believe. It was a cool wet day, which threw my memories into autumn mode. I only seem to focus on certain events around that time of year. They’re chilly and bittersweet, and they just wouldn’t do without the crunch of spent leaves beneath my feet. That strong autumn wind, for me, exists to sweep my attentions away from wandering headlong into the past.

 

Whatever is going on, it’s still evolving, still being nurtured deep down inside of me. But the roots of the very thing have already begun to show, changing the way I think and feel. This is the creation of wising up. I’ve walked down that path of temptation, stumbled out onto the other side and learned to heal from my wounds without scarring. I’m certain I’m the same girl, deep down, and that my potential for loving is still a well which continues to remain bottomless for me. 

 

But I’ve casually learned to separate that fleshy part of me from that insistent white-knight soul of mine. I know there is an animal inside of me that wants to submit, to give into the simple pleasures of life that most think naught twice over. She’s a creature that wants free of my personal bondage to put herself into someone else’s. I cannot abide by this. Where she goes, I go, and there is not a decision yet that she’s tried to make that I’ve vehemently fought every inch of the way.

 

I thought I could live in coexistence with her. But as I’ve grown older, her demands border on the impossible and dangerous – they have no concern for me. She’s no longer welcome, she endangers too many of the things I care for. She can starve. I will not give in. There’s too much I stand to lose. 

 

I’ve finally realized what I’m fighting for.