you will keep going.
hold ice cubes if you must, but you will keep going.
and i have found something to help with the pain of carrying grief is to hold ice cubes. let the cold numb your hands. let it take from you until it hurts. your fingers are stinging and pink and losing blood as the rest rushes to your core. your heart will be full of red and it will pump and pump heavily but beautifully. and you will breathe. you will breathe and fill your lungs up. you will keep going. you will breathe uncontrollably, unintentionally. you will breathe because just like you in this life, your body won’t give up. it is designed to keep you alive. even in the cold. even while carrying the heavy thing that hurts—the grief. and like your body, you, my dear, will cry in this moment because if you were truly honest with yourself, the truth is that you care. you’re in the i-don’t-give-a-fuck war and you’re losing terribly, horribly, with that poet-born heart of yours. you care, you can’t help it, you’re an empath through thick and thin no matter how much it hurts to be betrayed over and over and to lose over and over—you will do it you will do it you must do it again and again—because the true winners of the i-don’t-give-a-fuck war are the ones who don’t quit in the loss but keep playing and they hold ice. they hold ice when it gets heavy because there is this thing about bodily pain that takes a little back from the pain of living, just like the ice steals the heat from your hands. and hurting yourself intentionally this way is very dangerous, mind you. but that is for another page. all you need right now is to breathe. and pump. and breathe. and pump. you will keep going. you must.
OTHER WAYS TO SUPPORT MY WRITING: