Dearly Beloveds,
This f***in' year, am I right?
The loss, the grief, the rejection, the torment, the destruction, the disappointment, the cellular trauma. This upheaval. This choking.
The injury. The clenched muscles. The rush of breath, in or out. The pure hell and the heart of it all, squeezing.
Let us lament, collectively.
Weep the tears that come.
Rake and sweep the remains. Gather the embers.
Remember.
This feels like the end of something, but an ending is as sacred as a beginning.
But what if this really is a beginning? A stripping of the old, revealing a fresh and vulnerable newness?
In any case...Stay with us, stay alive, keep breath in your chest.
Find the kindness, or be it.
Rest.
Tomorrow we rise at dawn.
[2020]