unendingtrolloftime - Tumblr blog

[unendingtrolloftime]

I took the last exam of my graduate career. Maybe of my entire academic career. I walk back to my car, watching the younglings shuffle from their dorms to the cars of their parents and the train coming to a halt in front of the very railroad I must cross. The rings of the warning bell strike the second and fourth beat of their repetitive song with a stronger voice than their odd counterparts. Once the train passes me and the guardrails return to their waiting posts, I can cross. Every time I crossed the tracks it was to you on the other side. Even now, you will smile at me sweetly and embrace me in a hug on the other side. Will I feel this shift ever again? Or is this the last time I will walk across to you?

[unendingtrolloftime]

The shrine - 12.03.23

While he sat vigil at your living wake, we carried away the chair in which you spent your final months. It was a quiet act of kindness. Without your smile and cheerful voice to greet him each time he walked by, we knew he would begin to resent the innocent furniture. Your body had betrayed you long ago, and the chair held your not-so-secret shame, reeking of you just as much as it might remind us of your beautifully fragrant love. Each laugh was a burst of sweet scented pink roses. Without the chair, I thought he may shift his own seat over to the center of the space. He never did. His own seat next to yours has not moved an inch, even a year later. The empty space seemed to me like a harsh reminder of our loss. I wondered why we left it. Then yesterday I noticed it. The altar. The bookshelf behind his, now lonely, chair holds his sole visible adoration. This man, whose dry, tanned face can hardly form a smile even when laughing, whose emotions are never on display, has left exactly two pieces of you for himself. The first piece is the picture of you that I took years ago. The one that sat on your coffin during the funeral. The one that he saw when I sent it to my mother and he teared up, saying, “that’s her.” And the last piece being your book. A combined effort led by my mother in which we gathered each poem, each scrap of writing, and she published you. He keeps you there. A visual and, almost auditory, shrine of your loveliness. What a beautiful and devastating act of devotion. He still carries his bride with him to sit together in the living room, and he always will.

[unendingtrolloftime]

When souls are knit together by life and torn apart by death, their patterns remain the same. With each longing touch I will stitch us back together until we create a seamless tapestry in this life as well.

[unendingtrolloftime]

@academia-lucifer

[unendingtrolloftime]

I still write poems at 3a.m,

Hoping that someday you'll read them

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[unendingtrolloftime]

Every single day I have emotions that bubble up in me, sounding not unlike maracas in the hands of a toddler. It doesn’t sound like anything I can put a name to, but it certainly makes noise.

[unendingtrolloftime]

The pressure within me is building. The eruption will lead to extinction of my former self, an invasive species.

[unendingtrolloftime]

When sweetness touches the tip of my tongue

I imagine I see you there.

When perception unravels and I am undone

You make it better to bear.

[unendingtrolloftime]

“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.”

— Theodor Seuss Geisel

[unendingtrolloftime]

When aches become my body’s only language, it screams louder like I am not the sole interpreter.

[unendingtrolloftime]

After you passed your second name became “Christmas.” When either was said it sounded like a hushed bittersweet word that will never hold the same meaning as before.

[unendingtrolloftime]

“Failure is a bruise, not a tattoo.”

— Jon Sinclair

[unendingtrolloftime]

In the end, we will all become stories. —Margaret Atwood

[unendingtrolloftime]

You make me think someday won’t be so bad. Maybe it’s worth it to stick around for someday now.

[unendingtrolloftime]

December 15

It didn’t snow for such a long time until you were laid to rest in the ground. The tiny flakes fluttered around us as we left you there, clinging to our eyelashes and coats as a final hug from you.

[unendingtrolloftime]

My sanctuary was your arms before they grew limp. The passage of time haunts us all, but I hope you’ve joined its pursuit of me.

[unendingtrolloftime]

The broken will always be able to love harder than most. Once you've been in the dark, you learn to appreciate everything that shines.

Unknown