Thursday, April 4, 2013


Sometimes we don’t choose to hold on to something.
Sometimes an event sticks to us like a Cholla burr
So that we live it again and again and again:
When a pop star makes a song about being hit;
When a friend tells you how little she’s had to eat today;
When a client traces the story behind the scars on her wrists;
When a stranger brushes against you in just the wrong way.

At these times we wish we could let go.
We wish our skin would stop holding these moments
And we wonder:
How are they still attached when we’re shaking so hard?

This is why we ask for warning:
Tell us when we’re about to walk through a minefield of cacti.
Tell us when we need an extra layer of clothing.
Or, better yet, let us just stay home
With a journal and a pen or a friend or
A pillow that understands:
We’re trying to let go and pull away
But these moments have such strong hands.

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