Ten Thousand Postcards

They come as ten thousand postcards
Addressed to my soul
The same word written on each
“Remember”

They come as one hundred buckets
Filled to the tip top
Quickly dumped over my head
“Take that, girl”

They come as twenty firm hands
Wrapped around my throat
Taking away my breath
“It’s just you”

They come as fifty violins
Bowing out one song
Played with rapid dissonance
“It will return”

The come as ten thousand filaments
Wildly magnetized
Seeking scarred over fear-allies
“We’ll find you”

They come
Rushing
Running
Reminding

Then they disappear
And I am suddenly perforated
Punched out of that world
And replaced by the next me.