Dance on Teeth

this is an edited excerpt from yesterday's journaling:

And it’s a hollow, dark space that spills out before me. A space of missing. A space where an open mouth never gets fed. And I am dancing around this mouth, seeking to correct the vision that has made all go wrong. All gone wrong, and dance on the teeth, unafraid of what comes in or out of that mouth. A tongue tied or as sharp as a knife. Do I place sugar on the soles of my feet? Or salt? Am I dancing to remember or to let go? Both? Both. In remembering the true state of my soul, untouched by time and yet filled with experience, I am released of the burdens that have the names belonging to the victims I’ve been. Belonging to the victimizers I’ve been. Some sort of balance on the edge of the teeth, freeing the past and healing the present. The future is a memory I can’t quite reach and its name is forgiveness.

I can own the world like I own this sentence, my space in it. I don’t need to convince anyone to let me in, because I can travel in my own space. Maybe that looks like a dance or a song. Maybe I dance now (literally) to allow myself the room to be here and not in the shadow of the favor of others. That empty mouth, dark with wanting. Feed me, feed me, feed me- or else I will scream and bite. No threats today – just the air, the breath passing through my lips to rest for a moment or two in my lungs. Just this life connected to this world without apologies, fear or denial.