Artifacts

I went through my room, putting everything in boxes.

I’m getting ready to move out for the first time.

Before today, I was doing pretty well living in the present. But today, I opened old doors and cleaned away cobwebs.

The brain has a defense mechanism of taking events or memories that cause turmoil and submerging them, deep under cloudy waters, so first they seem like nothing more than a dream, and then, if you are lucky, they are completely buried altogether under treasures, coral, and other more beautiful stones.

Today, I dredged the river. The crystal, flowing waters came to a stop, dammed by my nets and consequentially the mud. Dirt swirled and revealed what was beneath.

Some was treasure. Trinkets from childhood that I had forgotten and now looked upon with bittersweet admiration. A simultaneous longing for those days past and contentment with the place to which I’d come.

Then my fingers were cut on the intentionally submerged items. At the time of their gathering, shining pearls and diamonds, blue glistening sapphires, beyond compare. Now, revealed for the wasting plastic they were.

The sight of them tearing open the wound in my stomach many would say had healed.

Artifacts like these that some might have put in a museum were deadly to me.

It’s late now and I’m tending to the wounds, bandaging my fingers and slowly emerging from the limbo – the limbo being that, I cannot bear to remember, but I cannot bear to forget.

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