waiting room syrup heart


spent the whole day in a waiting room, waiting to dieeeeee.

transition month, bubs. mild with some rain early on, but later it’s drier and brighter — spring starting to show its face. the light’s different and my sacred place tingles a little when the sun comes through. huzzah ๐Ÿ’” i’m working on a necklace with a glass heart pendant. green and brown beads, opalescent thread. the heart looks like it’s full of syrup. my hands smell like metal and glue. writers group asked how a friend can make things right after a fight. “an apology is a good start but you also have to make it up to the person,” i wrote. nobody likes hearing that. candy elle texted me a photo of phyllis with wings drawn on her. it made me laugh — my rabbit, the tiny queen of space. i keep her picture taped to the lamp now. i’m still drinking caffeine and taking pills. still telling myself: finish this row, finish this day. 

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