Confirmation {a poem}

Nervous system shorts out,
electrical fire in brain,
saturated heart.

In this place,
we would be rendered
mute and incapable
of right speech and action.

Some have been living
this way
their whole lives,
accomplished at surviving
and seeming fine to the outside eye.

Others are new
to these tactics of torture,
abusers who want us
leveled, resigned.

What does it mean
to speak of the sacred
without the poison of gas-
lighting ourselves?

Space. Room. Place.
Place. Space. Room.
Breath. Quiet. Listen.
Listen. Quiet. Breath.
Pulse. Pulse. Pulse.

Hand over my heart,
I hold a confirmation
hearing of one:
I am alive.

Hand extended in your direction,
I offer connection.
It may seem weak,
but we know what their chains
are made of and ours are stronger.

Hand on the ground,
asking the earth
for forgiveness
and mercy.

Hand to the sky,
grasping emptiness
in the ultimate gesture
of belonging to what is bigger.

A bell rings somewhere nearby.