I Find Centuries Between Moments
It’s muddled, my awakening. Just as it’s always been. I stumble from slumber with sand slipping through fingers, iron coating a numb tongue. Listlessly, I wonder how many times I’ve woken from sleep to find that whole years have passed me by. I wonder which lifetime I’m on. I wonder how many years ago I lost the simple ability to keep track of this passing time. A tap to my hourglass as I swirl it around; the granules of my life seemingly stuck. Once, they’d been chunks of a life, now each is the whole of an existence. I set my time aside, just as I once had with life. Perhaps that’s where this had begun. Life forsaken tossing me to limbo. I ponder not when it was that life left me. I do not yearn for its return. That is a gift I may not see. I dare not think of legacy. Memories do not skitter across my mind, flashes of what I once was. What I once had. I think, instead, of what I have now. These snatches of moments as I watch an artist paint the sky dusk, as I warm upon the hearth, as I count each and every breath. Time slows, my breaths even out. I slip into sleep. It is easier than I remember. Once again, life passes me by.
Mariya is a young Toronto-based student pursuing an MHSc. She most prefers the forms of prose poetry and short stories; her writing often centers around healing, revolution, and family. Her work has appeared in such publications as the Fiery Scribe Review, Livina Press, the Bitchin’ Kitsch and more. She can be found on Twitter @mariyakeeka.