I bleed to know I’m alive. Every day my heart beats, by lungs pulse, my limbs move, my brain fires. How come I don’t know I’m alive until I bleed? Some days the sun shines. Sometimes I laugh. Most times I don’t. Some days my bones ache. Sometimes flexing my muscles feels good. I have just existed every day of my life.
So how come I have to bleed to be alive? Why does it take a bloodletting for me to ponder the hard questions? Why do I have to stand on the apex of the fulcrum, teetering one way or the other before I realize that life and the way I feel is important to me?
I could be what I want or I could just continue. I can risk or exist. What do I need? What do I want? Where do those two things intersect? Do they intersect?
Bleeding doesn’t have to leave a scar. Too many choose to let the bleed limit them. It weakens them to the point they are afraid to reach higher. I choose not to do that. When a bone breaks, the process of healing actually makes the bone stronger than before. That’s what the bleed will do for me. My base will thicken and expand. I will reach beyond, reach farther than I ever thought I could. I refuse to be otherwise. I don’t want to exist. I want to be alive and that is my choice.
I am bone.