this habit

This is part 4 of a series. Please start with the Introduction here and reader beware, these may be traumatic.

I continue to feel a vulnerability hangover from posting these. It’s funny in that not-haha sense that even with so much time elapsing between events and writing, between writing and posting, that I still find this is a dark and tender place in my heart. Yes, time does ease grief but it doesn’t erase it. And I think time sort-of warps or folds sometimes. The past becomes present and tries to pull us back under the tsunami of grief when we least expect it to.

this habit                                                  August 18, 2017
to dust i am
oh dust of my womb
child forgive me
my sin
and my suffering

i place my hand on my belly
where you should be
but are not

this habit
of loving you
dies hard

your life
in my life
was hard

i wonder if you
felt my pain and my fear
did you suffer too?

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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1 Response to this habit

  1. Pingback: Everywhere but Here and an Introduction by way of Explanation | the liminal life of m

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