Go ahead, let go of it.
You’ve held it close in the curve of your belly,
Feeding your resentment,
Your sense of powerlessness,
Until almost nothing of you remains.
Pale and wavering in the last rays of the setting sun.
Once blood-red with rage, now losing heat to the pale pinks,
The blues of nightfall,
That flash of green before the day’s final snuff.
You need only a shredding wind,
To skitter across the surface of the bone-white moon.
I understand you.
This is a regular occurrence,
This repetitive purge that never quite cleanses.
Let it run through you unchecked.
Leave the stark tendrils of your grief.
Relieve your pain.
Your pain is exhausted.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2018)
Midtown Global Market Prompt: Relieve your pain, now (3 minutes).