Body Talk

‘When we are under chronic stress, our muscles twitch because they think that at any moment, action will be required of them. So they are, in a sense, gearing up for the fight or flight, kind of like a track sprinter dragging his foot backward on the track as he prepares for the race. Anxiety tells the muscles, “Get ready. On your mark, get set…”

But the “go” never happens, because the stress is not of a life-threatening nature (such as a charging bison, falling rock or hissing snake of ancient times). So the muscles remain in idle, like a car at a stop light. The engine is on, but the car goes nowhere. The engine, in this case, is the muscle twitching. They are not relaxed. They are anticipating.’

http://voices.yahoo.com/twitching-muscles-most-common-cause-muscle-twitching-909107.html

My foot is telling me that I am thinking about her

and him

as I watch television with both feet propped on the coffee table sat next to

a half empty bottle of Irn Bru

which is flat.

There is a red light from the TV that bounces off the light from the window

and mixes

mixes inevitably with the dust in the air that I am breathing in

and out, but most of it is sticking

clamping, holding onto me inside my windpipe

my finger taps an fast rhythm to a jovial song

that I don’t know and isn’t being sung

Anywhere.

The foot is uncorordinated, geekish in it’s independant flail,

like an awkward relative who springs his limbs away from him

on a new Years Eve dance floor.

But its moving like an alarm

trying to tell me that I’m thinking about him

and her

and I should really think about him

and her

but I won’t let the message get up past that white, pointed bone that

sticks out of my ankle.

Perhaps something is trying to speak to me, but rather I inhale slowly,

pushing my tongue sloppily against the roof of my mouth

to act as a filter.

As if I might keep out what flies, and lives in the air around me,

and only take in what might not hurt me.

I can feel the eye beginning to go,

the featherlight vibration of a rabbits foot

and I wonder if I could stand to go and get up a cup of tea

or if I am too shaky to pour the milk.

I am shaking.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s