Into the Eclipse

“When children attend schools that place a greater value on discipline and security than on knowledge and intellectual development, they are attending prep schools for prison.”  Angela Davis

Split into millions of pieces they no longer have the power to experience their feelings.  The creative impulses flowing through their hands find expression through the chaotic view of kaleidoscopic eyes.  As the crack in their mirror grows, they begin to see the layers underlying it.  They watch their automatic reach for something outside of themselves and they forget what they were here for as the constant need to reach for something becomes their only power.  They begin to see their transformation.  As their hands continue to exist separate from them, their minds grow into the stars and close to what lies festering before them.  Maybe the gentle wind she attempted to guide them with was too subtle given their numbing existence, yet she knew nothing else.  She could not be a father, she could not close their eyes to anything but they still could not open them on their own.  They only saw the darkness they followed, the darkness they were once again becoming as the sight and judgments of the world created their thoughts and their bodies.  They stand at the threshold, armed with only choices, choices they do not wish to make.  As they are pulled into the infinity of their closed thoughts and they reach out for help, no one responds, only darkness, surrounding them, bringing them further into the mind that keeps them inside of the narration that closes them to all their surroundings.  Knowing this, they no longer have a choice to make.  Before their eyes beautiful fluttering wings, shooting shards of light from their base as they float from Her hands.  In beams of light she fades from above them.  They wink their eyes, blinded by the beauty lighting their path.  They reach out, crushing the brightening wings with their grip.   The fading flickering burst of light fades upon their skin.  They can only hear the drag of their footsteps upon the sand, forwarding them to a goal they cannot perceive.  In the wind, Her voice travels by their ears.  Their chains are gone but they still feel them dragging along with their legs.   The voices in their heads become nothing but chatter, disconnecting them from what lies before their eyes.  Their mind focuses on whatever new cracks form in the mirror in their hand.  They follow without question, forgetting where they have come from.  They continue the long walk through drifting sands and broken hearts, trampling on the beat which has brought them here.  They walk through the box and enter their new home, unable to see what unfolds before them but they accept it anyway.  The disconnect forms and they see what they once were, and watch a luminous fog envelope their previous form.  They hear Her voice in the distance- escape-but they fall to the sand covered in darkness, and reach up for the fog, as electrical pulses from the cloud travel up their arms.  They watch their heart continue beating through the screen of the fog.  Their existence here seems much easier, a loss of control gives them quite a bit of comfort as they no longer have to reach, they experience, watch, twitch, convulsing to the bright electrical pulses shooting throughout their bodies, they can do anything but feel as they are separated and can no longer distinguish their bodies from the fog.  The heart, beating inside their minds as they continue watching.  The fog drifts their minds away, as they feel free and their hearts covered in darkness beat along to the dark electric fog, shrouding everything within their sight.  They let go of their control, let go of everything and allow the fog to take them away. As they watch, only watch and hope for a violent explosion to remind them, maybe they exist, split into millions of pieces, they reach out for the box they now exist in, reaching for guidance, reaching for a narrative to center them, but they can only grasp darkness, teaching them all it knows

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