a poem // originally published on Instagram May 16, 2022
It’s Monday again
and I wish it wasn’t
but freezing the sun
in the sky
has never been my strong suit.
It’s Monday
and the whole damn world
feels cracked
and bleeding
trailing its innards on the ground
in the wake of all that was never
meant to be.
It’s Monday, and the weight
of all that shoves our shoulders
downward
doesn’t
get
any
lighter.
It’s Monday,
and the weekend didn’t
wash away
white supremacy
or the vengeance of the virus
or the echo of the empty shelves
in the baby food aisle.
As we feel our hearts
fr/act/ure
to hold all the hurt
may we remember
this is the way
of expansion
and when we’re ready
we will
feel under the edges
of the wall-to-wall grief
and brush our fingertips
across hope
because if grief is the skin
hope is the bones.