drafting wishes

for those who gathered the stories that seep out of the split palms of their grandparents and their grandparents before them: may you wear those open wounds and fading scars visibly so that they may remain as testaments of your and our resilience for our grandkids and their grandkids after them.

for those who stumbled up the stairs over bodies verging on overdose, while learning not to stumble over our own feet when taking first steps: may we find the strength to hold our hands out to help our siblings stand up from that same cold stone when we try to pick ourselves up.

for those who fell face first after tripping over the unacknowledged grandeur of our perceptions of ourselves; may we learn and remember humility when our lips kiss the ground.

for those who disappeared into their heads: may you find solitude, but not isolation.

and to those of us who wake up burrowed in each other's chests from nightmares of realities and memories that cannot be denied, may we wake up wrapped in the first taste of morning sun and the safety of our own bodies, embracing because we can acknowledge that no one is fearless, but we have been brave. and we are still here.