on existential, interpersonal & disenfranchised grief

existential thinking -

a crisis maybe

a questioning for sure -

has shaken loose

thoughts

realisations

wonderings

revisions

a sense of the fragile

of the fleeting

of things that could

- should -

withstand the fires

that threaten to

engulf

consume

ash-a-matise

(yes i made that word up)

(yes it's the one i want)

i said to someone

from unwanted,

but perhaps needed,

distance

that life is too short and too precious

to remain in conflict

with those we care for

it is also too short

to remain in connection

with cycles of pain

(i didn't say the second part quite so well in the moment...the benefit of time, reflection and drafting)

the world is not going to hell

it is

creating

summoning

embodying

it is becoming

hell

yesterday i saw a woman

shot in the head

shot in the head

shot. in. the. head.

i saw a woman shot in the head

from multiple angles

before i finished my morning coffee

today i watched as fires tore through places i love

places that hold memory and beauty and other people's homes

i refreshed

and watched

and refreshed again

i streamed news

watched as repeated warnings

filled my screen

my screens

i tried to work

but when the meds kicked in

they chose fire-watch as their focus-target

they chose checking for responses on social media

and i realise now -

as i sit alone

in my inner-city-suburban-safety

far far away from danger

brushing snowflakes of ash off my clothes -

that i was looking for connection

i was looking to say:

are you seeing this?

are we together in this?

i am not alone and you are not alone and we are not alone

and over the last few years

death has lived (oh the irony)

blood on our screens

blood on the streets

blood on our hands

limbs torn

heads gone

babies and children and women and men

a little brown girl in a car

a grown white woman also in a car

and it's not just there

it's there as well

(and my body is not in either place but it lands and spreads through me and it is now here, too)

and so it settles in my heart

like the ash on my clothes

and i am

convinced

convicted

utterly confident

that life is too short

too precious

too fleeting

and too fragile

to remain

in conflict

with those

we care for