'All The Dangers' & Crushed Ice

On a November night, a late drive back home, my mother proceeded to spell out to me “All The Dangers” that would happen to me once I... had autonomy.

And my beginning time for my autonomy would have been at the turn of the century, at the sweet beguiled age of 17.

My mother always had told me “All The Dangers” that had happened to her throughout my life, and that they would happen to me too.

But this night she reiterated, and with the most extreme emphasis it created a well of emotions in me.

That the many underhandings of life would fall upon me like the after acne scars, and I was frightened.

To be so close to the bliss of freedom, and yet be plagued by it.

Where is the warmth in knowing that?

And where do “All The Dangers” even begin?

At the turn of age 7, and had watched the undermining of my father’s presence in my life before my very eyes, I don’t think my younger self realized it but I do now and it is the act of leaving.

The disappearing act, or the drop of curtains, or turning off a screen, or a bullet through the night.

Another thing my younger self didn’t realize is that I would experience this for the rest of my life.

Whether it would be the young boys, with their long paragraphs of “I love you’s” and their short, even nonexistent, goodbye’s or the death of family or the halt of my generation or whenever the time may come when my mind leaves me.

Where could I possibly stand on this sinking ship? And do I get to see over gargantuan mountains?

Or in body bags and a neatly sectioned grave?

All of this on a night ride home, and forever more