september 3rd

i got stung by a bee today & cursed in front of my grandpa. my finger swelled up to twice its normal size & i think my heart did too. i tossed the bee to the ground & stomped on it. i saw it twitching at its end. my heart broke.


i drank coffee from a rose-colored teacup today & wrote a letter in spanish. i tried to say everything i couldn’t but ended up throwing it away. 

my room glowed a soft purple today. my eyes shelved it into red & blue—i don’t think i’ll see it the same again. 


i thought about death today & i thought about her. it’s hard not to. i tried to distance myself from the memory of the oxygen mask & the empty almond eyes but somehow it always comes back. the hospital bed, the geese, the apple sauce, the white walls. the broken language & broken lungs. 

i should learn to knit. i should learn german. i should eat more grapes & drink more milk. i should finish this book & wear her jewelry. but i’m tired & it hurts. 

sometimes i think i don’t deserve to grieve. what does my sheltered heart know of loss & death? 

my answer: enough.

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