Medi(t)ate

It’s getting lighter, she writes from an afternoon trek across her new campus, I can feel it. You send out tendrils of your own, try to smell it on the wind, but you know all the worst is yet to come and the storm hasn't even taken a deep breath yet. You pace in racing heart rates but know you signed up for this. You’re supposed to be able to bear it.

On the uptown train, thick with rush hour bodies, I read a book so tragic it mauled at my insides. Perhaps this is not the time to be reminded how bleak a life can be, you think to yourself, but are we really allowed to turn a blind eye? My Monday bar remains, attempts to lull me back into Faith.

It’s an uphill climb. But damn if I ain’t putting one foot in front of the other.