these are the days that i want to bite glass. there is a restlessness in every corner of my body. i want to unzip it, open it, rip it out. these are the days that the injustices and the absolutions scare me.

these are the days when i know to move. i walk for hours, on a hunt for mercy. my words are sharp and my thoughts relentless. the assault is unbearable and the only way to avoid destruction is to propel myself through time and space. i close my eyes as i trek toward amnesty.

these are the days when i learn to understand the inquiry required to achieve happiness, when i know that asking, naming, telling, releasing, are the pathways to healing. though they seem to be mocking me, the poets and the hummingbirds show up to tell me that this too shall pass. the right song delivers comfort. the shock of aloe blooms change the narrative. slowly and subtly, i change too.

these are the days that i am keenly aware of the shadows looking through my windows and yet i keep dancing naked in front of them.
perhaps i deserve it, perhaps i have granted an invitation to lurk and haunt.
and still, i will continue to follow the succulent’s wisdom and bloom candidly–even when it appears absurd.
in the name of freedom. in the name of hope. in the name of all that brings us closer.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile, the world goes on.
~Mary Oliver