A.V

Mother has been sent for operation. Minor, they say, but still an operation. Not a trace of fear shows on her face. Perhaps it hides somewhere in a quiet corner of her heart, like it does in all of us. Now, we wait. Along with many others. A long hallway, lined with cold metal seats. Light pours in from one end. The air hums with people. Stretchers roll past, seeking space, seeking hands. Some stare into the distance. Some fiddle with their phones. A few yawn, tapping their feet until sleep finds them. I sit and watch. The whole world seems to pass through here, people of every age, moving to the rhythm of doctors and interns. White and blue own the place. Bags and quilts rest on the benches. Names are called, one by one. We wait for ours. Hours pass. Half-asleep. A little tired. Still waiting. A.V

 Tired, I am, of knowing there is never a perfect time, yet still trying to force a perfect version of myself to meet it. I am never ready. Never complete. Never enough to begin. And still, I wait. What are you afraid of? Showing people an imperfect you? Failing to deliver what you imagine as quality? Or being seen… and judged? You know the answers. That’s what unsettles you. You watch the heights you envy, and stay where you are, unable to step forward, unable to even be proud of yourself. O child, how will you grow if you wait to be whole first? How will you learn if you refuse to begin? A.V

It’s raining again. The slow, thoughtful kind, the one that comes to stay. The kind that reminds you of what you had forgotten. I’ve always seen rain as a mirror of the heart. A somber heart makes it heavy. A guileless one finds it full of glee. The sanguine see it as something almost beautiful. Today, The wind carries something back to me it reminds me of who I was and who I have become. Kinder than before. More carefree. More childish, perhaps. We move through the city, lights dissolving into the falling sky. Beads gather on the window as I look through them. What was once pure settles into the earth, turning to mud. We laugh, lost in small conversations, as the car crawls forward among its own. The small ponds shimering with trafic lights and break lights. I pause. Close my eyes. And take in a long breath of petrichor.

I don't like it. Alone I lie in this bed. Dimly lit by the full moon,  that peeks in through windows. Body aching slow, Warm, Mind numb, Eyes heavy, Strength blown away. I wish, as I curl up. To lay in her embrace, Head over her lap,  Petting me into a sweet dream.  I lie, remembering how her embrace felt I lie, remembering how her closeness felt. How her warmth felt. I lie, remembering her eyes.  I lie remembering her laugh. Remembering her presence Where I find solace still. I lie in this bed, a little under the weather, remembering you and for a moment, the ache softens. A.V