January

Scrolling through the hundreds of lists in my phone. I’m trying to clean my space or something about the new year even burned some sage we put a lot of pressure on sage these days don’t you think? Held a crystal made some tea turned on all of the tiny lights we have strung across the walls. Nothing harsh just something to dull the edges of my perspective you know? Still I have trouble parting with most of them. The lists I mean. I found the one I wrote at the end of summer. Feels silly reviewing it as though so much time has passed but that gap between now and then is full was full, almost bursting begging for someone to come in and free up some space. Years folded into months perhaps. Or however it’s more accurately measured. The note weighs more than it used to and I’ve stared at the words on the screen for so long that they don’t look like anything I’ve seen before you know the feeling? I don’t want to blame it on the new year if we don’t have to. But something’s different and now I keep finding bits and pieces of my wreath sneaking in from the outside. It was so beautiful the day I brought it home thought this one could outlive last year’s but now it’s dying at a rapid pace. I suppose it was dead upon arrival I don’t like to think of it like that but you can’t walk from my room to the bathroom without poking into one of its fallen sharp edges. No matter how many times I sweep the floor. A palpable reminder of time passing like when the leaves fall and you crave the sound they make between the concrete and your shoes. They can’t hang like that forever though. The wreaths or anything else really. Days weeks maybe months if you time it right but eventually every bit of green finds its way back down.