SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Gaining Perspective - Saturday, May. 04, 2019
On Being Sixteen Again - Thursday, May. 02, 2019
Intensity - Sunday, Apr. 28, 2019
Ground Zero - Friday, Apr. 26, 2019
Breathing into It - Wednesday, Apr. 24, 2019


Tuesday, Apr. 23, 2019 @ 8:23 am
Cloudy/Sunny



Harrowing hollowness.

I dare myself to sit with it.

I take it with me to the aquatic centre, drag it behind me lap after lap. I tuck it under my arm and carry it to the hot tub. It escapes my hold and hovers above me like a brooding storm cloud.

I sit in the swirling froth wearing a distinct frown, my knees drawn up to my chest. I do not have the capacity or desire to be my usual sunny self. Children avoid me.

In the change room, I comb out my hair in front of the mirror. I glare at the clumps of hair on the floor, the scores of discarded paper wristbands that accessorize each of the shallow metal shelves.

I make eye contact with myself. I startle. My eyes are shadowed with black, accentuating my scowl. I forgot to take off last night’s mascara.

Good.

I look fucking miserable.

And then a small smile creeps onto my face.

What a goof you are, being all miserable for a few hours.

I scrub the dark circles from my eyes, blow dry my hair, and walk home with a lightness and a tingly feeling of joy growing within me.


Roots | Shoots