I wanted chaos
/
I wanted chaos.
Sore nipples insanely tired.
But I am empty.
I am home
/
You share toys, baby gear, DNA, a bedroom. She uses your hand-me-downs, less worn than we expected. When she reached the equivalent weeks as you were when you were born, I delicately placed her on your blankets and photographed her at the only age you two have had in common. And she is the only person who has lived inside the same home you did: Me.
Read MoreAfter Amado
/
His little body was slippery on mine / Tumbled gently from my chest to my belly / As I slept / And I so desperately wanted the warmth of my body / To heat his / Which of course couldn’t happen because / I understand science.
Read MorePhantasmagoria from 'Notes for the Everlost'
/
The wonderful PRH Audio is releasing excerpts of the audiobook of Notes for the Everlost: A Field Guide to Grief, as read by me in a three-day marathon inside a little black cave-room in Nova Scotia. It was such a gift, and such a deep dive—18 hours of reading aloud, re-living, time-travelling. And feeling very much with you, with us.
Read More
With the words of a love song
/
They are songs of grief and death and the intersection of life and loss that is my permanent residence. These are the melodies I frantically return to each time I feel I have lost her again, clinging to each syllable when the strum of grief reverberates throughout my hollow body. They are the exact same words that remind me that I will always be able to find her in the deepest parts of my soul, that she will forever be a part of me.
Read More