2.22.26

shedding skin & writing poems

I’m on the cusp of some big decisions and changes in my life. A lot of things I had envisioned in my head didn’t pan out the way I wanted to, but I’m choosing to see it differently. I’m taking it as a sign of the Year of the Snake shedding its skin for new blessings. I am looking forward to the Horse Year and new beginnings. Sorry for vagueposting, but more on this soon.

Random current obsessions: watching ice skating and the love story of JFK Jr. and Carolyn Bessette.

This afternoon, my friend and I visited a free poem booth outside of a bookstore we were at. I took a free poem, but didn’t expect it to make me cry. Perhaps I had a melancholy air to me, because how could he have captured something so specific? I’m not going to post it, but it did inspire me to write some poetry of my own (something that I haven’t done in a long time)!

—

Can you grieve someone you spoke to every day
even while they’re still out there, breathing?

At first, I said nothing.
Why offer my words at all?
Why hand over something sacred
to someone who never realized
how rare it was
to be the place my thoughts landed, to be the recipient of my unconditional care.

I wish you well.
But I hope you learn what winter feels like
without my warmth
quietly watching over you.

I wish you well,
chasing mirages in the east,
running toward fantasies,
when something real arrived effortlessly
and you didn’t want to keep it.

In my mind, you say you’re sorry.
In my mind, you regret it.
In my mind, you say,
“You don’t know how remarkable you are.”

I’d rather stand alone
than chase something
that costs me my self-respect.

—

Until the next newsletter. I promise I’m fine.

Love,

Erika