Two Kinds of Hugs

A python coils around me in a slow, slithering, wrapping hug.

Big trunks of snake make their way around my waist, up my chest, around my throat, and into my dry mouth.

Circles of anxiety and fear are paralyzing my movements, keeping me stuck in a world of my own creation.

It disturbs my organs, makes me feel possessed and when I look in the mirror, I am barely there. I’m a paler version of myself.

I need to lay down.

My shallow breath rises and falls quickly and sweat forms a cold damp layer on my skin.

I sink just below the bath water. My tears mixing with epsom salts and lavender bubbles.

I float and pray and share my biggest hopes and dreams. I focus on making it all easy — that a positive resolution is a given. That I’m still worthy.

A valve is released. Liquid drains below me. It is red.

Something tectonic shifts and the world swings in my favor. The thing that I feared the most, that I thought would end me, slides off and dissolves.

Someone heard me and bent the world to make me safer, more whole, and alive.

I am deeply grateful and lifted up into a warm embrace filled with knowingness, wisdom, and love. I let out a small cry of relief and cover my eyes with my hands.

Water drips off and I’m upright holding myself closely, knowing that I’m always covered.

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