IT ‘Round His Neck

Didn’t know what to call IT,
this thing he discovered traveling the path.

So many years IT played him,
used his neck to hang from.

Remembering back…

That first awareness,
starting out like a secret,
not like a coveted decoder ring—
his buddy Steve always got his in the mail first—
more like those dog tags John Wayne
and the other tough guys dangled against their chests.

Like a dream seen through rail car windows,
the ride seemed without end.

Then he realized one day
‘round his neck was a whistle on a chain,
a call for attention—for help, the weapon he hesitated to blow,
after all, drill sergeants use them for control, not help.

Years passed,
schoolyard bullies had disappeared long ago,
along with the whistle
‘til one day…

Whistle was replaced with her birthstone ring
strung through a bargain basement chain,
loosely touching his heart.
Maybe engagement?.

But then…

Lots of ITS got anchored in his head,
people supposedly blessed and wise,
telling him life was merely a test,
that he was bonkers thinking
living was going to be fair, safe and secure.

Engagement disappeared.

Marriage a fantasy.

That’s when IT changed shape,
weight got heavier,
ounces went to pounds,
pulling his head down,
his eyes seeing less and less sky.

“Quite a trip you carved for yourself,”
his inner-self reminded him,
telling him IT was nothing but shadows of doubt
shrouding the brass ring
he never allowed himself to reach for.

One day IT disappeared.

Years went by
as gravity took over.
Feet became corn-laden.
Knees popped and crunched.
Veins grew from trickles
to rivers on his hands and legs.
Face wrinkles became valleys and gorges,
folding toward the infamous neck,
now sinking, dropping like everything else,
allowing less room for anything to hang from,
real or imaginary.

For…

Aging became rocking chair moments,
where so many nameless weigh stations were remembered,
carrying the years ‘round his neck to the next scale
‘til his other self finally told him,
“This is the real IT,
willing to reveal the why and who
you never dared meet.”

He stepped off the train.

The empty platform was really… empty,
yet strangely crowded with growing up lessons from the past,
ample space to give him acceptance of the inner him.

He was finally relieved of IT.

Finally.