We Give Birth to the Sun
this month has reminded me of blue — stolen film, heartbreak, hues, the sky. i tasted loss this month, but only through my self. every day a part of me dies, but i’m starting to understand that’s a good thing.
when i was younger i would watch baseball games with my dad and try to formulate the rules in my head. i told myself the players would run because they were afraid of themselves, and tried to find solace in hiding. in a life of pitch and swing, we’re all scared of ourselves more than anything else.
lie to me and say you’re afraid of failure, or of rejection or abandonment. but those words die in your throat, watered by wine.
i know your biggest fear is your potential.
we exist in the shadows of twilight. coming alive most when unseen. how do you live your life? censored when your shirt collar is fixed. your paycheck relies on your conformity, so you stay quiet.
i never knew a body could contain so much grief within a month. our brothers are dying and your blindspots are being exposed. i’ve only ever seen god in a secular way, so praying seems performative. but what else is there to do? take a long look in the mirror and see yourself as god.
i think everyone has their own hues of darkness, the reasons that bring them to their knees — to pray, to cry, to surrender, to bleed in silence.
failure, abandonment, and rejection have always been the footnote of my darkness.
what did i do in a past life that separated me from the sun that everyone else seemed to live under? darkness is only the absence of visible light, it doesn’t, however, mean that it does not exist.
we are often separated by the ones we love, isolated from their own self-sanctuaries, to cultivate a deeper relationship with our own life. we are not meant to live through someone else. we were given our own skin for a reason.
i had to be separated from the sun that everyone lived under to understand my own light. our darkness is unique to us, but light is what keeps us connected to others. one cannot exist without the other. when i swallow this truth, i bask in the milk that lingers…
moons rise in my darkness and we can give birth to the sun in the morning.
