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Time Passing - Blog Posts
Years ago, my friend had a ganglion cyst, right on her wrist.
Fluid build-up. Best to let it rest.
Don’t aggravate the joint.
It’ll go away on its own.
.
Some days, I think memory is a bit like that.
A build-up in oft-agitated joints,
The nerve bundle harmed by relentless back-and-forth that has become
habit,
Become routine.
It goes away on its own, quiet as a last breath stealing out of a lung.
Fades as time wears on.
.
Other times, it’s more like a broken bone, never healed right.
You remember the crack, the pain, the wrong-ness
of the displaced shards of calcium.
You remember the painstaking, irritating, frustrating process
of healing and relearning simple tasks.
.
On rainy days, the bone twinges.
On rainy days, you are right back to the break.
.
—you can always wait for the sun (y.c.)
I do not know how to go on
With you,
And I do not know how to go on
Without you.
This is our liminal space, our
Handcarved pocket of eternity.
Always here and always leaving and maybe,
in a hundred years or a few seconds,
we will find our way out of this trap.
.
—y.c.
I am rediscovering how to love
The way I used to when I was five. Before Love
Was swept under the rug and
Freedom became the only prize.
Fear runs rampant, dominates—Panic is seeds sown by a
careless farmer—
But here, in this moment, without distraction,
without fear,
I am rediscovering what it means to love despite
the flaws we hold.
Here in this moment,
I am redefining who I choose to be.
If one thing must come from this living,
barring death,
let it be the choice to love again,
despite Love’s faults in the past.
.
—in the space between here and then (y.c.)