The Black Room
Friday, June 27, 2025
27 June 2025
Thursday, May 29, 2025
Friday, May 16, 2025
16 May 2025
Tuesday, May 13, 2025
13 May 2025
Friday, May 9, 2025
09 May 2025
As your head aches with loss and regret
as your beauty melts and washes away
as your arms grow tired from carrying the broken parts
as your braces become unlaced
Remember that everyone who adored you
still does and will
That your hands will always be warmed
and the hair gently swept from your brow
The thought of you being enough
to sustain a million lifetimes
in defiance of fear and the gnashing of teeth
And in that endsome night hour
may your collarbone be marked with a lipstick kiss
so the faithless will just wave you through
Friday, April 11, 2025
11 April 2025
Wednesday, September 7, 2022
7 September 2022
This is the time for sleep.
In this moment, you see an opportunity for a respite, however fleeting, from the pain and the fear. You see a chance to abandon your defenses and slide out from under the weight of your confusion. The moment speaks to you softly, invitingly, and you cross the threshold.
But tomorrow, the clarity eludes you. You find you are still thinking about whether the saints were ever good people and what really happened to Amelia Earhart and if it means anything that we are made of stars and will return to them. And now there are more questions and fewer answers.
The rope slips the pulley and something innocent tips into the well. The swirling fear picks up your scent. Instinctively, you seek comfort in convenience and familiarity. The only way back is to cauterize the nerve endings you ripped from their fortifications. It will be painful but you will do it for the promise of illusion and protection and quiet. The remembering will pass and the forgetting will claw its way back to your embrace.
This is the time for sleep.