LEAVING A VOICEMAIL FOR GOD FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME

It’s me again, and I know I just left you a voicemail about an hour ago,

thanking you for marbling the sky with the most vibrant colours I’ve

seen in a while & for the morning songs of the thrushes—I wanted to

call you and say that I know this year isn’t over, just yet, but it was quite

a year & for all the wrong reasons, and there really hasn’t been a moment

to just rest, it’s been a series of one thing after another, and I’m not even

sure why I’m telling you about another year that almost killed me, I’ve

been trying to practice being more mindful & more grateful, but I’ve

been grasping at straws lately. It feels like the rot is everywhere these

days. I was hoping you could send me a postcard, from wherever you

are at the moment, I’d settle for a sign. My memory isn’t the best but

I have a tendency to keep replaying the little things and inflate their

significance, I still think of the first time I saw her brown eyes catch

evening light far too often. At times, it feels like I’m comprised entirely

of a series of small things, and for once, I just want one big thing