I’m shackled to discord it seems; his unending rope drags

me along for a ride I should’ve gotten off of long ago.

I would’ve ended this drive

years ago,

but it feels like it’s only his wheel

to command.

Unyieldingly, I’m battered and bruised by his crazed

swerving and jolting and lurching.

My stomach’s churning

at the thought that this could be forever.

This might be forever.

I try to picture peace, yet balk at how it was bashed into me

when I was young: lips tight, sealed and pursed with words eviscerated,

my forehead doused in holy oils when I became “possessed” by

unruly fires. How unfortunate for a girl like me.

More still that I dare to bellow my joy,

dare to writhe in my wrath,

dare to carve out space

for what I thought real peace

should be.

How unfortunate for a girl like me.

I still dare to hope, in a whimsical girlish way,

that I knew her before – Serenity.

Ah, Serenity, a name one sings.

An imaginary friend

or a fae veiled in the delicate folds of flowers

or a gleaming star I used to wish upon in the shroud of night.

Her scent would be potently soothing,

like the shea butter and tea tree oil

the aunties would lavishly lather

onto their rich Earth-toned skins.

The palms of her hands would be firmed by callouses

yet her touch would feel like a petal,

a choice she makes because she knows I starve for security.

Right now, I muster a glance out the murky window,

stained with water streaks and dust and dirt,

and I tentatively grasp a glimpse of things beyond my reach.

Trees streaming by me in waves of green (sweeping brush stroked hues of mint, emerald and seaweed),

birds chirping and trilling sweet-everythings to each other,

three kittens tussling playfully on the pillow-like lawn, clumsily tackling

one another under the sturdy eye of their doting mother,

and houses and houses and houses and houses and people

living and vibing and thriving in those houses,

making them into homes.

I shift my glance away.

I stare ahead again.

I try the handle.

Would it be as futile as always?

He chortles at my fruitless attempt.

But I sensed something

Small.

I felt something give.

That’s never happened before.

The cord that constrains

me seems to be slack; instead the hope of reuniting

with the tranquil girl of my dreams fastens tighter

to my gut, heart and head.

And I dare to dance

into my dreams.

But for now, I’m still riding along and along

for however long can be