How does a social construct
alleviate the emotions I feel —
how can time belong in a place so sacred,
so full of love and rage and sorrow?

I wish to stop time,
to simply exist in this state of
grief and triumph —
to exist knowing more about myself
and how, even *this*
does not define me.

*this* was hard,
and I did not know why —
I could not comprehend
even with the time I spent on it.

It wasn’t until I stopped thinking of the days
that I began to hear my voice —
my dear younger self —
that I understood that *this*
opened a door for me to sit within
and listen.

{punctuation inspired by a dear *friend*}