How are you doing? They ask with eyebrows furred together.
How am I doing?
I’m laying on dirt that’s cracked like the pieces you once filled in my heart.
This dirt is trying to heal and connect itself with the older dirt
I’m laying next to the dirt with little sprouts of grass popping through
Your bodies under there
Under this cracked dirt, spouts of grass trying to grow, and a few straggling weeds
I lay here, coddling the broken ground, trying to find comfort in that your under there.
You’re not alive, but the body I once hugged, laughed with, cried with, sang with, strived with, it’s under there
I lay here and update you on everything
Today would have been your 22nd birthday
I lay here and yell at you and cry and sing
And try to catch my breathe so that I can tell you I love you
But I can’t stop looking at the cracked dirt
Hoping you’ll just come up and this can just be one sick joke
you say i am unclean, that the blood between my legs defiles me; you forbid me from touching your saints, from standing in your holy places, but i know the truth: you are afraid. you fear my strength, that i can bleed and bleed and bleed for days but still survive, and that this monthly ritual is the reason why i can create life from my own flesh - it seems like witchcraft, doesn’t it? it scares you that i have this much power? that every man a woman made? let me tell you a secret, boy: we are blood rituals timed to the moon, we are the wolves who carry you on our backs. do you think we will be slaves much longer?
we are wolves, but you would make us dogs | l.g.
Notice how it is always
The tiniest, simplest things that touch you deeply.
How the loss of a seemingly insignificant something can shatter you
How you smile so honestly
when in presence of small specific details
How one thing can make or break your day.
Always keep this in mind
When trying to touch someone to the core of their heart.