{ we are rising suns }

what things will linger

only in memory?

this month i turned one year older.
this month i became more myself.
this month, i wear purple fingernails:
we're going into the third week. i'm on my third shade.

this afternoon i drank champagne.
right now cookies are in the oven.
it has been a time of being kind
to myself.

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what tongues can whisper of coming remedy?

push out the melody

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until this month, i'd been feeling behind:
behind all my friends who are committed, married, and procreating.
behind the people with fantastic jobs and financial security.
behind the couples nestled in newly-bought homes.
behind the people who are happy. who have found their place.

then my birthday hit and i realized:
i am not behind. i am not subject to society or subculture's timeline for a life.
i am not tethered to a conventional trajectory. i am not defunct.
i am where i belong. it may not be comfortable. it may be solitary.
but i am where i should be. so much is not figured out. but it is right.

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what things will linger only in memory?

clocks tick, hands don't move

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i lost my grandpa last week. i saw him in his last days,
shuddered by his bed as he labored to breathe,
tears running in rivulets down my face.
it's not something i'll ever forget.

in the ensuing days, as everything you would expect has rained down,
i've faced so many humbling things about myself. they rise unbidden in
layers, in humid vapors of grief.

i want people to think the best of me. i want to to do what people expect of me.
what my parents think of me, of my actions, is still painfully important to me.
i've matured in the sense that i don't always do what i think they want me to,
and it bothers me less when i realize i haven't pleased them.
but deep down, i still want my parents to approve of me. so much.

in the past few months i've said and done more things i never would've said or done in front of my parents because i just couldn't hold it in anymore --- things like bullshit and i don't want to talk about this anymore and fuck --- and the world didn't end. they didn't disown me. they didn't even frown disapprovingly. in fact, sometimes they nodded and even laughed. and then i laughed, out of nervous relief and with delight at the realization that my parents and i are finally peers. they respect me. they aren't measuring me by obedience or behavior anymore. they are beginning to see the woman i am, the person i've become --- and they accept her.

since my grandpa died, i've said a few really honest things to my mom i never would've said before. i cried as i said them because i was afraid she wouldn't like it. because i was afraid she wouldn't like me. because as my mom is losing her parents, i'm faced with the truth that i will lose my parents one day. i see the care and honor she's given when they've treated her like shit and taken her for granted. and i don't know if i'm capable of that. and i worry about coming up short for my parents when it matters most. i worry about so many things.

my mom saw my honesty and we reached understanding. she didn't disown me. she didn't even make a subtly disgusted (but sharply pointed) comment. she said she appreciated me explaining what i was feeling and that it made sense to her when she thought about who i was. it was truly a milestone for us; i'm not sure we've ever had such a positive interaction about something so deeply emotional.

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i'm going to bed early tonight. the wake and funeral are tomorrow,
with a military burial tuesday. i don't know how i will do.
death is strange. it leaves sticky, raw filaments in its wake.

my cookies are done. i've had the first bite.
i daresay they are perfect.

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are we bursting from the ashes?

all things yearning for the push?

can you hear the ever groaning?

shedding hours we have become?

we are rising suns

we are rising suns

we are rising suns

we are rising suns

lyrics: son lux

rising