I exist in a cavity which yawns, through it winds the breath of a midsummer’s gusting around a yew tree’s gaps and leaves. This cavity has been hollowed out by a pneumatic drill of life, its thoughtless operator did not check for underground hazards, didn’t concern himself with the overhead wires and animals upon their tails as hangers, no, this negative space has been constructed only to my liking, a place for me to exist, my hiding, he understood my needs. Somehow, how can a widened interior house someone whose own interior is still healing, still shattered in areas, still widely-known for easily breaking? I present in a different manner to stop the worrying, to stop others holding concern, I am happy, though inside I could be better. While I am unfulfilled, I am full of desire and drive, within this small cavity I exist undisturbed, able to construct my thoughts, the drill shudders and trembles around me, wanting to make more space for this growing body, because, growing like my heart and soul, which repairs themselves slowly, this place feels like home now. It does, truly. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Photo by Jerry Zhou on Unsplash
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