I see thousands of lives pass by,
and I no longer know how many I’ve lived.
This death has hurt the most,
a quantum leap in flesh and bone,
aching all the way to the tips of my fingers.
Change hurts.
For a while, beneath the scars,
goodbyes take on a familiarity that hurts even more.
Mine hurts so much
that now I feel nothing.
I’m sorry.
For now, I’ll seek life in another life.
Deaths often arrive like thunder:
a sudden light,
and then, so much fear.
Suddenly, the air turned cool,
and memories froze.
I know it’s time,
but no one taught me
how to honor my own death.
I burned without warning,
and now my family is looking for a home.
Photography by Paola Anahí Garza Romo.

Writes about what hurts, what changes, and what blooms again. Author of Todos los Jardines.
