Life as I know it has changed whilst I looked the other way. No longer driven to save or conquer, all I can do right now is breathe. I breathe in, I breathe out. No longer a simple movement but a clutch on life. My cells are tingling, alive and called to attention. A flowing roll call that reveals that …
Identifying as queer, I am a big supporter of people being allowed to live as they see fit. The proviso being no harm to others in any form while doing so.
I travel alone and am very aware and avoid most situations. But…Not long ago, I came to a place that should be safe but reality showed me differently.
There is no kick in the start. No juice in the blender. The molecular organization is scrambling and I’m laying face down in the dust, or carpet or whatever.
Does ominous hang in the air? The poets say yes, but to me, it was the heaviness of a tropical summer. A hot day thick with the smell of dust from the road.
Our life together a wild ride. We never gave up. We fought, laughed, lived, loved, and forgave with passion until one of us did give up. That was you, my love.
I cannot speak. Loss renders my words ineffective. I cannot do what’s expected And pretend. I must surrender to soul-retching agony
Fark! When did this happen? HOW did this happen? I knew that I was feeling pretty tight, but when did I become stress?
I woke up as if from a dream when she spat that poverty was a matter of inconvenience, in an email of high importance, of course.