I shaped the air with my cold hands,
dancing in a parking lot.
Singing at the stars,
trying to bring my anxious heart
to a place of uncertain peace.
Sometimes it all just seems as permanent
as the little heart I draw on my wrist
when I’m bored.
My attempt to be friends with uncertainty
is…
A work in progress.
She’s not the easiest to get to know.
We’re getting there.
“I guess I just don’t love you enough”
Yuck.
The hurt heals though.
We are always stronger than we think we are,
no matter how many times the agency of others
takes
and takes
and takes.
Eventually,
your breath doesn’t feel like
it will break your rib cage.
Because there ARE those that
see you.
Hear you.
Carry you.
Love you.
It was August.
The hum of the live jazz still buzzing on my skin.
I hear a woman on the street laugh and say,
“There is a God, there is a God!”
I smiled.
That’s hope.
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