when i put november through february on paper:
my mother has cancer;
all her hair has fallen out.
a good friend was killed by a drunk driver,
leaving my best friend to raise their son.
a friend’s mother was shot
in the chest
answering a knock at her front door.
when i look at this on paper, things are grim. when i feel this in actuality, in waking up and looking at a world I’m no longer quite sure HOW to look at, things just are.