Sun-stained hands

“And it’s not easy— never—the only way to sun-stained hands is to grab the light yourself and never let it go.”

handstarunknown
Art by: Unknown

Sun-stained fingers delicately prying open darkened, charred ribs.

Hearts can become such messes, you know.

Clogged with ash, unmoving, hard, cutting like the surface of a mountain.

“Can you even imagine,” she said, “that this used to be young and tender? That it rushed and skipped, halted and leaped.”

Now, it is just a heap of ash.

“Even so,” he says, “you manage.”

“You take a little bit of light everyday, and…”

And it looked so easy for him. Bright, sunny as he was. All golden skin, sun-lightened hair.

“And it’s not easy— never—the only way to sun-stained hands is to grab the light yourself and never let it go.”

No matter the keenness of the burn, the sharpness of the sting. Grab the light and never let it go. Because this burn, it is the burn of alcohol on fresh wounds. It burns because it heals. It burns because it takes away the things that have slipped inside, so tightly enmeshed in parts of yourself.

 

 

The Lonely 1 a.m’s of Life

“At 1 a.m., we are too much of ourselves. At 1 a.m., we cannot handle the thoughts that take a highway to feelings…. At 1 a.m., your heart is a funnel for the feelings of all other hearts. “

michelleellis
Photo by: Michelle Ellis

I think a major reason why we sleep at night is to avoid living these 1 a.m’s. They are the moments when everything exists through a haze, as though any moment now you would realise you were dreaming and go back to sleep. But it all feels too real, too. The sounds of the neighbour’s air-con going off, the rustling leaves and the silence. It is calm even in your head. But there is no peace. Just contemplation. Just everything, naked, uncaring for the sweetness or brutality of Reality. At 1 a.m., we are too much of ourselves. At 1 a.m., we cannot handle the thoughts that take a highway to feelings.

At 1 a.m., the brain actually shuts down in part, something about needing rest and signalling that you’re tired. But the heart never does—it takes no breaks. So at 1 a.m., you have no thoughts, really. Only memories and sadness. Yes, 1 a.m. is the heart’s reign. So even the sadness is too complicated to dissect. Regret. Fear. Nostalgia. Hope. Useless wishes. Insecurities. This amorphous thing that is Life. At 1 a.m., your heart is a funnel for the feelings of all other hearts.

At 1 a.m., Life stares back at you, asks you who you are and what you’ve done. You’ve had 20 years—what are you now? Who will you be in another 20?

But because your brain is sleeping, because all your defenses are down, the only reply you give is the one that comes from your eyes.

I Thaw

“It’s a little like autumn inside, but it is also spring.I am no longer numb, no longer cold — the season has come and I thaw. “

heartgif
Gif by Unknown Artist

I thaw.

Crystallised in ice, my heart stirs back to life. From blue to blooming red, the season has come and I thaw.

The layers of cold, the once solid ice slide down, fluttering to the ground, melting into puddles at my feet. It’s a little like autumn inside, but it is also spring. I am no longer numb, no longer cold — the season has come and I thaw.

And I know it will be a sweet, lingering spring. Because the heat that warmed this heart up came from within.

 


Listening to:

 

Break my heart, please.

“I need you to do me a favour
and break my heart please.
I am stepping out into this world,
and I need to know how it feels…”

Chiara-Bautista.jpg
Art by: Chiara Bautista

I need you to do me a favour
and break my heart please.
I am stepping out into this world,
and I need to know how it feels
to bring down these well-built walls,
to be soft, tender, vulnerable,
naked yet not hiding,
to give someone the power
to crush you and then watch
as they do.

Because the world breeds heartbreak
and I need to know.
I would rather step in broken
than go whole and well,
hopeful and wanting
only to return a shell
of dashed hopes and disenchantment.

Live. Live. Live.

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Gif by: Emmy Cicierega http://www.emmyc.tumblr.com

When you are world-weary and submerged in the darkness you swore you could keep at bay, when you feel like you can’t go on and nobody in the whole world cares about you, when you feel insignificant, just one negligible existence in a torrent of other more important, more valid existences: turn to your heart.

Close your eyes and place your hand on it, and feel it beat the words:

Live.Live.Live.”