Thought.is

I wish for the stars to dance for you — just for you.

I hope these stories helps a part of our wounded suffering world breathe. I hope that our sons read these stories and walk differently on this earth.

He cries on the street and on the porch, I hear it in different rooms of his house.

Since taking the week off I awake without an alarm, I make a coffee slowly, I read — fuck, I never read. I sit and marvel at the green of the mountains.

Left for breakfast — ate a breakfast bagel in the sunshine, smelled a pink rose, drank a coffee that is right. Pet a dog for 30 minutes with my one hand, legs draped over the wrong side of a chair. Pet another dog. Lost my keys, found my keys. Hoped across train tracks barefoot. Sat and talked with people who were kind.

And I struggle with whether I can forgive
with whether he deserves my forgiveness after choosing to not be in my life for 21 years.

A writer I shall forever be.