His health is deteriorating. He's not in the hospital.
I love him. I'm not in control of a damn thing.
I'm hopeful his condition will improve. I'm living in the moment.
I know pain. I'm familiar with loss.
Jokes about celebrity deaths and being done with 2016 annoy me.
A new year doesn't stop endings.
He has no appetite. He can barely walk.
I will rent a car. I can drive Joan's.
I am going to be with him.
He sounds the same. He sounds like a stranger.
I rally for love. I ask rage to come out.
I acknowledge tight muscles. I breathe through panic and tension.
I feel relief.
It's deep down inside me from long ago
not channeled at him or little me or God
I buried it in the desert
and covered it with flowered cactus
smiling, cutting my finger on the edges of the sharp needles