Ashley Malik

History repeats itself until we really learn. Lessons come in the form of lovers.

SPELEOLOGY

My memory of you is a lifetime worth of miles away. I walked into somewhere dark, grey, cold, and lonely. I was covered in an icy sweat. I couldn’t live in those caverns. I loved sunshine too much. My dreams wouldn’t let me waste away in the void, the damp stone against my back. You were already gone. You walked right into the inky blackness. The cave swallowed you whole. Who was around to show me where to go? How do I get back to the light? My will is the fire that burns so bright. It burned in my calves, my thighs, my hips, oh my hips. “STAND UP NOW,” it whispered menacingly somewhere behind my right ear. In my head? Who knows? All I knew was, I was gonna stand up. I had to ease the searing, the lightning strikes, Oh my hips. I had to move or the blaze would consume me. Is this what it feels like to burn? To scream with all that you have left? My throat was already sore, and I was already tired of the sounds of my agony. So, I stood. I tore my nails on those rough cave walls. I trusted that little candle burning under my left breast. I bumped and banged, crawled and cried, but that flame caught oxygen, as did I. Bleeding and bruised I broke through. I was no longer buried alive.