poem. fighting to be whole. 4|3|25

Premier of Domum Dolce Domum, Newark Symphony Hall, 2022

I woke up today thinking about dying, knowing I’ve passively been allowing my breath to be wasted praying at altars I built with broken bricks, and now I’m bruised from all this falling in love I’ve done.

Lots of heartbreaks, heartaches. Fighting for my life at the hands of a black man, hoping that my friend, a black man, would protect me. Am I disappointed by black men? Deeply disappointed, have I swallowed the weight of my disappointment instead of putting it down, letting it go?

Did I instead let me go?

I look back five or so years ago, and yes, I was more…outgoing

I feel like I’ve turned in on myself and away from the public eye. 

Who knew how much of a heartbreaking miracle this would be?

I wish the weights of heartbreaks were lighter than they wind up being

I thought love was the heaviest of them all, but a shattered soul

Weighs much, much more

Deep despair is nothing to fear; it’s just an indicator that something is deeply wrong. But I’m not deeply wrong. 

What a shame — 

And then what can we do to hold space for such deep, dark despair? How deep can we grow within ourselves?