Escape

I need to escape.

My body can be oppressive.  I can feel my heartbeat, my pulse, my bones, my skin, the cold, the wet.  It’s overwhelming.  Too delicate and brittle.  Too much upkeep.  Too easily damaged.

Eventually I’ll leave it behind.  The only universal outcome.

But where will I be after that?  Will I even be?

So I escape. 

For so long I thought about ways to escape.  Alcohol, drugs, pleasure, pain, bondage, yoga, running away.  Ups and downs, creation and destruction.

Suddenly I found a new escape.

Neither healthy or harmful.  Basically neutral. 

And I didn’t have to get out of my skin after all.  I put on a new one.

I became a woman, a child, Spiderman, a sex goddess, a trucker.  I ran, jumped, played, fell, skinned my hands, rolled in leaves, kicked some stones, created, destroyed.

An escape inside a different skin.