life is destabilizing. it takes us in its grip and throws us into a hurtling storm before we’re able to gather our bearings. hurricane after hurricane, we begin to question why.
for two decades (and one year), i’ve been kneeling in my own blood then rinsed away the evidence by sunrise.
this will continue until the end of my days. and then some.
twenty one rests heavily behind my ribcage. twenty two will as well. i’m growing weary. i’ve been in this realm for longer than intended.
my spirit echoes around my childhood room waiting for the end.
it isn’t coming. not now, not yet.
father, when will you guide me home? my weathered maps revealed themselves to be misguided, untranslatable.
sanity silently departs. we are all abandoned in / our hour of need. / in all my spite, i am unable to deny this fate. / anchored to the sea floor, i am my own hometown tragedy.
i’ll be honest with myself for my next year. (i’ll fail… in more ways than one.)
I just turned twenty two so that line struck me, how powerful
i hope you know just how powerful your writing is 🩶 thank you for sharing this.