10/16/2026
Something about grief
being love with no place
left to go.
Something about being filled
with blackbirds.
I wish you
that clarity.
I wish you
that hope.
I woke up
(I was gifted
the morning after),
ears still ringing:
“Stop hitting yourself,
stop hitting yourself,
stop hitting yourself.”
I wish you
that morning
over
and over
and over
again.
- For Trevor
📸: Nate Montgomery