Braids

For the first time, I wore my hair in braids, and I began to wonder how something so simple can be so tangled and how something so twisted can be broken down into three strands and how all these little complexities and normalcies and everything in between are me.

Everything lies in piles.

Drafts and revisions and notes and corrections clutter the floor and scream for me to tidy the past, but I’m looking towards the future. I gather my words, devour dictionaries, but there’s still too much to say.

A day off in winter. It’s 50 degrees and it’s shining, but God’s threatening - it won’t last - and I don’t know if I believe in Him, but I believe in the weather and I believe in the time and I believe in the changes which won’t come to pass.

I’m feeling the breeze through the window and its cold reminds me of things I want to miss and holes I cannot fill and a hunger food cannot diminish.

I am starving.