Process
Written August 20, 2023
It doesn’t happen in a moment.
It happens in moments.
When the soul cracks,
when the scream is silent,
when tears fall backwards into the chest.
When there are no words,
only shaking.
When sleep is no refuge.
When memory floods the body
and drowns it.
When you forget who you are
and remember everything
they made you forget.
When you beg God to stop
but the prayer is just air
because the God you’re begging
is the one who watched.
When time loops and you are
five,
eleven,
fifteen,
twenty-three—
all at once.
When the ancestors come
not to save you,
but to weep with you.
When you say,
“I don’t want to do this anymore,”
but you do—
because something inside you
still wants to live.
Because something holy in you
wants to be born
from all this breaking.