Tag: epiphany

ancient artifacts

black clay medallion, going into the salt

I look at this
it looks like a cookie
i wanna eat it
I look at this and I think you might have liked it.
Like really liked it.
It has that stone boulder-type look that you loved
you made your file folders and icons all have it
It has that riveted, homemade robot-type look to it
that wonky, wabi-sabi ancient technology look.
something you could have unearthed on a dig
or found in our backyard, sticking half-up out of the dirt.
You can see my fingerprints in it, for now.
You can see the literal hand of the artist.
The linen cloth I use to protect both surfaces
above and beneath.

I had to come forward this far.
this far.
Three years.
I had to come forward this far
to make something I truly think you would like.

I think so much that you would like it.

but why am I trying so desperately to please my dead husband?

i am not afraid anymore. 9th july 2020

i am not afraid anymore.

(i was afraid ((briefly)) that i would forget this,
what i wanted to write needed
needed to write
but i was driving and i know how to remember things
((mostly
you just keep repeating them
looking into the middle distance
(((idk if that’s a real thing but go with it)))
and then it becomes a rhythm and then you can just
remember))
)

i am not afraid anymore.
i have faced the worst
the absolute worst.
i have heard the worst.
i have dated the worst
fucked the worst
married the worst.
i have been burned
i have been raped
i have been thieved.
i have lived the worst
i have died.

still,
i rise.

i have done all these things and i have fucking
FIRE in my heart and my brain and my lungs
and i am not afraid of you.
i am not afraid of you or anyone else.

especially not you.

you come try.

i dare you.

8p, 6 november, 2019. conversation derailment.

i feel everything
all of the time.
everything. Everything.
EVERYTHING.
Some days, minutes
some times the sound is turned down? From here, to here
(10 to a five)
so I can get through the day with a modicum of effort,
none enough to stop me much less slow me down.
other days? others try to kill me
slowly, quickly, whatever it doesn’t matter
but I’m learning
l e a r n i n g
what works, what my diagnosis is currently what i need
what I need to make me sane
sane enough to breathe.
i keep saying don’t i?
i keep saying i am able to steer this ship now,
i am able to keep her off the reefs and out of the deeps.
sometimes the trip to safe harbor takes longer than budgeted for
i am learning
to let go, to give up and let the medicine do its work
that i am the medicine
the sum of my experiences is what will save me
i am the hero of my own story.