It feels strange, to wake up in a world without them. A sudden stark realization that they are, simply put, no longer there. And yet, we transition. This is the work of the mourners—to ease themselves back into life. The men continue on, their emotions dragging them so deeply that they touch the bottom. The …
Continue reading Water Weavers
Like water, the brothers uncles cousins now slip through my fingers. And where they fall is someplace dark. I cannot quite see to the bottom of them. I try to peer through all of their existence at my feet, to grasp at understanding, but my gazing comes up dry. To really understand them, the dead …
Continue reading Hide and Seek
Tonight, I take a bath. Because the drain is broken still, a bath is its own labor. When I am done, I have to haul the water from the tub inside a bucket—trip after trip—until the tub sits empty. I have to weigh the cost. Tonight, it is worth it. Tonight, I take a bath …
I try to think back on when I first fell in love with water—fell in love with storms. I think it was, perhaps, the whimsey that my father breathed into the lore—the way he made rain seem like magic. How he never made us come inside once it’d begun. With water, I have a strange …
I feel it there, between my heart and ribs, Along that thin strip of flesh. A crack upon the sternum Words And how they rest there in the shallow scoop of skin A clavicle. Words and how they rest there Fingers how they hover on an iliac Scapulae and how the feathers bleed when they …
Continue reading Unbreak the Son: a poem
It's been a while, I know. I got a new job (yes!) and have been working out the details of a book deal for my memoir (more yes!) and all of this, coupled with my processing, has resulted in a much needed pause from writing and social platforms. That being said, now that my memoir …
This song feels like rain washing away your heartaches. Vibe with it. There is a meditation we do called heart breaths, my therapist and I. In it, I am meant to gather all the love around me in the air, and envision it as a color. All the energy inside my body I see I …
Continue reading Hearing Color
Sometimes, I imagine what it must be like to be buried underground. When I miss my cousin terribly, I think about rolling back the grave grass like a carpet. Like a blanket, or a sheet. I could unbury him, and watch the ground unfurl. When I was little, I was captured by the story of …
Continue reading The Graveyard
The Wild Heart of Life 