Today is a little better but I don’t have the bandwidth for ten things. Just one or two.

I. I typed all the words into the void last night and had a nice, long crying jag. Rolled myself into my blankets and went to sleep. Got up this morning and declared it a blanket fort day. Threw a little paint. Spent some time with one of my beloveds on Zoom. We are in pretty much the same place and it was good to be seen and understood and to hear the words “I totally get it.” I know her story so I know she totally gets it.

II. My FB memories are fucking killing me right now.


There are words
we don’t use,
words we left behind.

Like ‘cleft’
which signifies a split
but also means
to part,
to sever,

especially along
a natural line.

Act 3 – Scene 4
Maybe you know it in this context –

“Thou hast cleft my heart in twain.’

It’s not a romantic line,
but, still, it has its place in this
since I have split my heart
in two.


I know it like that,
and I know it like this.

The way wood
cleaves to the axe
the way the heart of fire
must be parted,
half from half,
to be revealed.

I cling, I cleave
to an orphaned language,
and I am living In this line –

I am the wood,
I am the axe,
and my heart
is cleft in twain.

October 14, 2018

III. Tuna subs from Subway are medicine when you’re depressed and can’t eat.

IV. A favourite moment.

V. A favourite painting from two years ago.

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