I’ve cried until my eyes are burning and swollen. I don’t write when I’m happy. I don’t write when the sunlight makes circles around my baby boy’s curly crown like a halo, or when my oldest laughs from deep in his chest, like some music the entire earth comes alive for – I don’t writeContinue reading “The doorstep.”
Category Archives: overdose
Smoke.
My brother died six years ago. I lit some incense tonight and I’ve watched it swirl and swirl and disappear, like his face, his voice, my memories. The thought makes me hate the smoke, and I hate the correlation I’ve just made. He will never be dead to me. Sometimes I have dreams, and IContinue reading “Smoke.”
