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Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash
end days in these quarantine times,
staring at floorboards
uneven.
while mother lies dying,
intractably morose, i
count the times i've been here before–
friends whose lives burdened them so much
they decided to cut things short. three times,
too many,
too many
to forget.
i'll grieve for them as though it wasn't expected.
the fractal pattern of loves long-lost
is the defining characteristic of my landscape.
coastal erosion/
crystal formation/
galaxy birth/
have nothing on the incisions that death creates.
About the Creator
kp
I am a non-binary, trans-masc writer. I work to dismantle internalized structures of oppression, such as the gender binary, class, and race. My writing is personal but anecdotally points to a larger political picture of systemic injustice.
Comments (4)
That’s an incredible last line.
Unbelievably powerful, kp. Thank you for this soul-deep, beautifully expressed, heartbreaking truth 💙
Loss and endings can be difficult but can sometimes unexpectedly brink new life.as you hint with the crystal and galaxy. Excellent work
I love the line 'nothing on the incisions death creates." But healing will come, with time. Hard as it looks.