Poetry: scattered reflexions (of self)

By: natasha aidoo

i traced my dreams back to the last place i had seen them. the opaque feeling of nostalgia that set like dust on the furniture made me wish i was somewhere else. anywhere else.

i read an article about the regenerating powers embedded in “blue spaces”. water water water. i run toward it with an ancestral craving. the siren in me couldn’t be clearer. waves, colors, and sounds are needed.

visions of myself flow seamlessly in an endless dance.

my infinite sadness, as Ginla puts it, is at the back of my mind. for a moment, enough to feel weightless.

the shore is translucent in the night. sparkling longing for a carefree soul. will it ever be possible? or am i feverish?

kaleidoscopes of illusions revolt in the sand. i dig to find reasons underneath the suffering. existing shouldn’t be so hard, i wonder, while tears leave traces of salt on my face.

i’m in transformation. it’s a continuous process of fires and blossoms. i run after my heart, but he says that it’s actually not racing. it’s all in my head, but it’s all in our heads. we are living in constructions and inventions that are as fragile as time but thought to be as strong as steel pillars.

it’s still racing, even if i try to ignore the feeling of threat and uneasiness that holds my chest hostage.

think of blissful thoughts, i tell myself.

i picture us holding each other tight trying to capture the time apart in an endless embrace. i picture the smile on my face when i’m reunited with my plants, the joy that springs from deep down. i picture the coziness of feeling at home in different houses, finally. i picture her smile. a smile i’d cross the oceans for without thinking twice.

it’s the end of an adventure, where each day has felt like a challenge. i’ve survived even this time.

don’t take it for granted.

don’t forget “how grace marks your heart.”