Sometimes it is easy to pretend
all the things that happened to me
actually happened to someone else,
some other person who lived a different life-
that’s how far removed I feel from it now.
There are days this makes me sad,
and I pity that person and grieve for them,
but most often
I find myself grateful they survived,
that they took all those hits and falls and failures
and broke our shackles so that I could fly;
and for their sake I will never stop trying
to touch the sun
higher
eat it
when you get to the bottom of a big, tricky hill
and you have no idea
how the fuck you’re getting over it
take a deep breath
look it in the eye
and say, “eat my entire ass!”
then start climbing
because that’s the only way to get to the other side