Glimmers in the last 30 days

I saw a blue balloon deflated, buried in the sand,

A tulip, un-bloomed, next to its blossomed family of petals.

I saw an unlit Christmas lightbulb on a silver string,

A single sequin missing from a platform shoe.

 

I moved so quickly,

Passed the bikers,

The walkers,

The runners,

On the Strand,

Convinced I was levitating on limerence.

 

My skin tanned,

My nail polished lightened.

I devoured books,

Escaping into any story that wasn’t my own.

 

I tended to and nurtured relationships I haven’t touched in ages,

In some cases,

The time passed so obvious,

A friend’s 8 month old baby in my arms.

 

The days feel long,

The nights,

So much longer.

I climbed into bed before the sunset,

More times than I want to admit.

 

Every time I feel the tears creep into the pinks of my eyes,

I lace up my sneakers.

My calves have never been so defined,

My laundry never so overflowing.

My phone congratulates me,

My monthly average has increased by four miles a day.

 

I’m 10 pounds more than when I was 16,

And all I can think about is shedding more skin,

I beg to leave myself behind.

 

I have a dream that all this time, I have been navigating through the wilderness,

Someone asks me what it has taught me.

I tell the shadowy figure,

“To be brave.”

 

I thank my anger,

It keeps me from being so heartbroken I can’t speak.

I thank the women I deeply respect,

For the proverbs I didn’t ask for,

The compliments of my character,

Their hands on my shoulders.

 

No one has asked how my heart is more times than in the last 30 days.

I’ve never been asked before.

I wonder a month ago how I would have answered.

 

Now, my heart is chipped,

Shattered,

It hurts so much that when I try and hurt myself otherwise to distract from the pain,

It doesn’t work anymore.

Four of the bones in my spine are out of place,

And it just feels,

Boring.

 

I force myself to stare into the mirror,

For proof that I am still alive,

To meet myself.

Hi,

I chose you.

 

I trace the new parts of my collarbones that have peeked up through my skin.

I run my hands across the burns on my body from laying in the sun too long.

 

I don’t feel like a person,

Although, this is the most human I have ever felt.

 

I re-identify.

 

I am the balloon,

The tulip,

The bulb,

The sequin.

I am the shell of something that will one day be beautiful again.

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Time will Tell

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The Seven Stages of Grief | Acceptance