︎︎︎
LYNDA HAWRYLUK
Blacking Out
Swirling tendril thoughts dance like embers into a deepening night sky
Becoming long dead stars, twinkling twice, and disappearing
Somewhere into the dark beyond
I turn my head sideways then back again
Epley manoeuvring my head until the vertigo abates
Nystagmus flutters through my vision
Then settles again behind beyond tired eyes
Leaving only uncertainty in its wake
Like little internal earthquakes, these shudders and shakes leave me trembling
A body performing unsteady double-step dance moves
Without any background music or end
This shuffling footfall is heavy, like wearing wet turnout gear to a dance party
The cacophony of noise from within the unquiet mind
Brings back the rush of thermonuclear heat from a bushfire
Black days to remember and try to forget in equal measure
And a fugue state you can’t wait to return from
These brushfires in my brain can’t be contained
By contoured fire breaks carved into the earth
This backcountry is conceded, and remains so
Despite the best intentions of the strike teams
Boundaries, borders, and fence lines disappear behind the backburn
While the wispy lines of a crowning potential
Sparks up then fades out in an instant
Just like fire would
Swirling tendril thoughts dance like embers into a deepening night sky
Becoming long dead stars, twinkling twice, and disappearing
Somewhere into the dark beyond
I turn my head sideways then back again
Epley manoeuvring my head until the vertigo abates
Nystagmus flutters through my vision
Then settles again behind beyond tired eyes
Leaving only uncertainty in its wake
Like little internal earthquakes, these shudders and shakes leave me trembling
A body performing unsteady double-step dance moves
Without any background music or end
This shuffling footfall is heavy, like wearing wet turnout gear to a dance party
The cacophony of noise from within the unquiet mind
Brings back the rush of thermonuclear heat from a bushfire
Black days to remember and try to forget in equal measure
And a fugue state you can’t wait to return from
These brushfires in my brain can’t be contained
By contoured fire breaks carved into the earth
This backcountry is conceded, and remains so
Despite the best intentions of the strike teams
Boundaries, borders, and fence lines disappear behind the backburn
While the wispy lines of a crowning potential
Sparks up then fades out in an instant
Just like fire would