2020 In Flames

It had started off with flames.

Then waking to the phone and packing precious things, and escaping the imminence of the start of the year with it all ending in embers. Everyone I love, out of contact. 2 days without assurance. 2 weeks in evacuation. A whole year, and we are still recovering.

A Rose had to return to seed, and travel the winds back to her home, flying ahead of the virus. I still message her, but to hold her, like old friends, would be sweet. 

There was light inside me. What was a twinkle in my eye had nestled in my womb. But the wrenching hurt of those words “I’m not ready ” were lit in neon, and splayed across my walls. Lover and carrier, who were only a new flame, the understanding and coming to terms with this almost killed me.

A week later my grandfather passed. He had asked the nurses at his home to stop giving him medication, he was ready. A sullen, philosophical soul, who had made bronze sculptures for a living, was also riddled with Parkinsons Disease for the last 15 years. A dampener on the artists mind, but no less, one of my most beloved.

A scramble and lots of tears to get out of the share house. The rug has been pulled and I see that bitch for what she is. I had thought she was close. But instead my heart’s just over there in the corner ripped into shreds by her malice.

The end is near again. Let’s hope it starts it fireworks not flames.