Grief doesn't kill us. (though of course it should) It hurts just enough to shatter a human heart, but not enough to stop its beating, while the things that actually kill a person wouldn't be worth mentioning, otherwise. How stupidly like milk we are, to just expire when some date arrives. melissa suarez
winter (again)
In spite of every single thing, Leaves are down for the count. Another sunset outlines each skeletal silhouette- the light fades to match the bodies. And all my world is in its own shadow again. We're clear and static and cold and quick to bite, and still- Time flows along under sheets of ice. melissa… Continue reading winter (again)
The stars, a light.
The darkest place I've ever been was the center of your love for me. Eventually my eyes adjusted so I could see such white washed walls, tall windows pointing to a steeple pointing to a god who gripped you with a fear you gripped me with, too. I thought I knew more than I did,… Continue reading The stars, a light.
summertime
White hot sunbright falls so heavy, I melt into my own gravity as liquid; I am the same energy I was as a child and as a star and everything along the way. There is so much of me. When I melt I meet more of her, sit quietly because she does not know me:… Continue reading summertime
Morning Rain
was misting over spring green when we compared notes- both lost our souls at 33 this deity and me they say the first third is always the hardest thereafter the sun usually comes out in time for a beautiful set melissa suarez
Things You Outgrew
There is no list of things I outgrew. But a detailed list of suspects exists: Hard Questions with absolutely no defense against all my simple, certain answers. It's my fault; I did it and then I blamed them. And then I framed and reframed them to fit next to the box of too-small clothes under… Continue reading Things You Outgrew
A Night Desert
orange on red on sand day-end, a cool breeze arrives, urges the sun to bed, tucks her in under heavy, dark hills shadow boulders shoulder rocks surrounded by vast ripples of the finely crushed: a lineage heat waves sigh and roll over and take the night to dissipate cactus blooms nod stars, thousands, a night… Continue reading A Night Desert
closure is a myth
unless, of course, you believe in it; by all means, believe. may it be your reality. like many a myth, as real as someone believed it to be. myths are lovely, comforting and kind and gentle to irreparable things. melissa suarez
some things shatter, some things bloom
matter is just a word for everything do you remember the way it mattered the moments planted without markers or a tombstone or silk flowers that could fray with time to mark the everything we found there, the way we didn't mind that some things shatter, some things bloom melissa suarez