As if the lovers weren’t enough
The long forgotten
Those who ghosted, hurt and scarred
As if those beings weren’t enough to leave a trace on a wounded heart
And now this muscle aches in spontaneous rhythms
Martin’s work, Rosa’s word, Mama's pains,
Nelson’s time, Anne’s loss - weren’t they enough?
Weren’t they enough to teach that fear is the worst teacher?
Weren’t their arms long enough to hug even the hardest of children?
And children they are
Ripe for a hard lesson to be taught
When the pain becomes too much to bare
I think of healing
And I take pain as my teacher
Soothe soothe soothe
Those words… too harsh - hush
Hush for a moment and remember what’s good
Holding someone’s hand as tight as you can
And raising your fist
Now raise it
Raise it higher
raise it so high you'll feel your shoulders split from the rest of your body
raise your fist so high every muscle in your body - from the thumb clutched against your fingers to your pinky toe on the ground, know that this fist is raised.
And it's then when past lovers are where they belong
and breaking news matter no more.
You are the healer just right now.
Keep fighting. Keep healing.
To all my sisters and brothers.