An Unforgettable Morning

An Unforgettable Morning I stepped out of my boyfriend’s car, and was hit, again and again until half of me got pinned, between the car and the edge of the frame, of the door. I was being crushed and the pain in my right leg made me scream, “Help me, God!” Next, I saw a blurred white man in my face say, “I am going to give you oxygen before I remove it.” Then, I had short shallow breaths like breathing after drowning, and the pain pushed like air through me for the first time, inside of me, in such a rush, the sea in a cave, in a storm exploding against, stone walls. Later I had to think of how to move without shaking, like a new recovering drunk, or a person with a gun to their back, and without holding onto my boyfriend a cane, or a strong railing, then I had to work harder, like this. Later I thought about the elderly women who stared at me and said, “I use to look like that.” Now they just look past me like I am one of them. Later I had a mixer of medicines rushing inside of me, so strong like the first wave of the sea, making it difficult to speak, straight like my mother, when she disciplined me, again. Then, I learned, the strength of the spirit can be tested in any season of your life, like the mind, body, home, or a relationship, with a strong persistent force, when you are not thinking about it. I learned then, you must be ready to move on.