I listen to their words; of how much you have changed their world, how hard you have been and how much you have taken. I hear their shouts of adoration for your challenges and your gifts; the new perspectives and the banana breads. And I wonder why I do not see you; why I do not feel you.
2020, you did not repel my imagination forward to the promise of new year, you did not tug my memory back to a time before it all. You were just you and I was just me; two concepts which collided, two ingredients in a mixing bowl, uncertain of what they would become because what they had been is
unspoken.
Did you know that I was spinning before we met? You slipped into the air current barely noticed. They say you are traumatic, I say so am I.
I could not gather enough foundation for you to shake. I could not grasp enough safety for you to snatch. I could not exist how I wanted long before you said that I could not. I lived in my lockdown long before I was told to lock down.
But still I listen to their words, of how everything is changed, and how I hope it is true. How I hope that my past and all that was taken will find its vaccine and the silent creep of memory will no longer feel like a virus.
thinkinginspirals 