The kind of thing to look at when you sit down to grieve.

I am disconnected from parts of me that are deep wells of sadness.

To connect to pain is a memory away. I do not reach for you because you destroy me for days.

Mending: how do we keep safe our memories? Especially the ones we must leave behind in order to survive.

Even if we love memory.

Even if we use it as a way to devotion.
Even when it’s not.

Even when we dragged it around like a block of light just to see if it lasted.

Even when it breaks. Even when we know it will break. Let’s be shocked,


sometimes in suffering we find ourselves.