I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Month: August 2023
Another day. It changes,
daily, from what we have
experienced to what we
will know when the day is
done and we’ve seen our
way through the calamities
and chaos.
Tonight we will reflect.
We always do.
What will you learn?
What will it mean to you?
08/28/2023 j.g.l.
Posted on August 27, 2023 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
As depressing as it is, the feelings of being let down (or letting yourself down) cannot be permitted to take over.
You deserve more than that.
Disappointment provides too much time to think, even obsess, about what went wrong or what is wrong at the time, or over time.
Try not to think about it.
Consider instead what you can do to support yourself
Self-care begins with you.
Take care of yourself. As difficult as it is, look past the disappointment.
08/27/2023 j.g.l.
Posted on August 26, 2023 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
It stops.
Dreams, planted and paid for, dissipate with the season.
The eighth month,
forever a period of turmoil.
Imbalance.
Injustice.
Always.
The heartbreak of August.
Always endings, always there.
Goodbyes believable, stories told from sixteen onward,
a laundry list of sorrows, added items along the way
from a boy to a man, to whomever I struggle with now
and again.
I don’t know.
I live with it. This eighth month. August. I have naturally learned
to accept. My prescient nature, not always accurate, but available,
should I choose to pay attention to the whispers or my conscience.
Often choices are made for me, although
I continue believing you are where you are
because you ended up here.
Can you know?
This is not the season to hide, this eight month forebodes.
Always.
August.
As quickly as it comes.
As quickly as it goes.
Unhappiness fades away, with flowers, with memories,
with that freedom that comes from shorter midnights.
Soon to change.
September soon.
Calendars need not remind of weeks, or
years gone by. Each month has a purpose.
The sky sits lower.
It waits.
It knows.
@ 2018 j.g. lewis
