Cold, antiseptic air crushes down upon my chest
as barely padded steel pushes back from the other side,
effectively pinning my teenage body to a table
in a darkened room I don’t want to be in.
A heartbeat pounds in my ears— too fast
to be mine, yet instantly mine.
I watch the screen flutter with blurred vision,
regret for what I was there to do soaking my shamed face,
igniting a fierce protectiveness older than time.
My mind reaches outward to thank God
for orchestrating my enlightenment
and the pressure dissipates, replaced by determination that’s both weightless and dense.
Visions of my future shift faster than high-frequency sound images freeze and unfreeze,
their light searing fate’s Morse code into my consciousness
and I know with absolute certainty that any plans I had dreamt up
before this moment were imagined for an alternate self—
one who wasn’t yet strong enough to tackle life for two.