broken bones

I have very little time this morning, but I couldn’t let it pass without writing something. It’s Dia de los Muertos, after all, which is our holiday– truly ours.

My heart is broken, every thing inside me is broken. I’m ready for winter, to seal up and heal everything , regrow it again, make something new or reveal what’s been hidden.

If my heart was a bone it would be broken. I think it is a bone, the heart bone’s connected to the mother bone.

I dreamed last night these horrible nightmares. My mom was alive, she had gotten better somehow but we were so distant with each other. Somehow in her healing we’d grown apart and I couldn’t reach her.

No, forgive me.

If you no longer live,

if you, beloved, my love,

if you have died,

all the leaves will fall in my breast,

it will rain on my soul night and day,

the snow will burn my heart,

I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow,

my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping, but

I shall stay alive,

~Pablo Neruda

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