Caelum

But you also have this: the way the sky turns from dark burnished pink to that endless golden, like twice-baked, like the fact that you still haven’t left your body behind yet no matter how badly you’ve wanted to. It’s not always enough to know how to sign someone up for a mailing list, to place a patient’s files into a dropbox. Sometimes it’s more than enough to know how to live and not want to live but to keep on living.

They say that lemmings don’t actually die in mass suicides, that sometimes they merely happen to die in droves from drowning while crossing rivers to a new place of migration. What this means is, sometimes sadness is a story we tell ourselves to avoid the truth. What this means is, you are not a bad person for convincing yourself you are worthless. Like lemmings, this is just a myth.

And there are still the peaches growing from twisted branches like curled candles, the cold side of the bed, the way light sends itself through a window like an open envelope. The man on the bus knitting socks for his dead daughter and the way someone smiles when they hear your voice in their head.