Pretend It Doesn’t Hurt Us

The snow is coming down like a beautiful crystal mess. In each intricate icy bit of frozen lace, the rigid pixels of the year falling down on hard pavement.

Melting like a suicide. Like an attempt to disappear by smoothly changing form. The texture of resistance, slipping, slipping.

There is a softness in the sharp cut of the cold that cannot be explained because it stands still in the midst of the motion.

Peace at the center of the chaos, as if it had never ceased to exist.

It’s the gray dullness of a winter afternoon just around two o’clock which is the time of day I hate the most. It’s too late and too early to decide what to do because you are sick to death of the morning dragging itself on and your bones ache for the sensual cover of evening dark.

For the life of me I cannot understand why people hate the early darkness of winter. What are they even doing in the light that is so goddamn important?

I am standing in my back garden watching the tall naked trees cling to the blanketing white, all is quiet as the heartbeat underneath the stiffened fingers of my rib cage.

Stepping into the doorway under a tiny overhang, I light up a cigarette and take a sweet deep suck, my cheeks pulling in like carved hollows. I know I shouldn’t but I love the dirty taste. I crave the clench in my tender lungs like a pathetic ragged hug.

Smoke curls up into the white swirling around me as I imagine drifting away entirely, my body only a whisper on the wind which moves the highest branches against a pillowed sky.

Before we can know what we even had we are ready to lose it all for a lick of the desire for something so much more than this. For all the beauty, there is a sadness we cling to perhaps so that we don’t lose ourselves into the madness.

Pain as sanity. Pain as anchor. Pain as real.

But when I look out across a landscape flush with fallen leaves, fallen trees, broken fences crushed against broken dreams, I wonder.

Can’t we just cover it.

Bury it, let it freeze. Pretend like the past didn’t hurt us in places we refuse to see.

.

Photo by Taya Iv

13 Replies to “Pretend It Doesn’t Hurt Us”

  1. Hi Allison,

    I am reaching beyond the veil. Would you be interested in setting up a virtual coffee/ tea? I have appreciated your work and felt a spiritual/artistic kinship with you for nearly a decade, I think. Anyway I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.

    On Wed, Dec 16, 2020, 4:45 AM Allison Marie Conway wrote:

    > Allison Marie Conway posted: ” The snow is coming down like a beautiful > crystal mess. In each intricate icy bit of frozen lace, the rigid pixels of > the year falling down on hard pavement. Melting like a suicide. Like an > attempt to disappear by smoothly changing form. The texture” >

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah, another piece that immediately pierces the surface and the dives deeper and deeper with each word. I am in awe every time I witness your nowness that is at first physical and throughly viscerally imagined, instantly transforming into the environment you so beautifully pain with words. Amazingly you do not stop there for it was just a teaser, a kind of a “hello, welcome, come into this world!” and then the world effortlessly morphs into what can not be seen with the eyes but oh it can be deeply felt by the spirit and the heart – your wondrous mind that challenges and pushes one into “reach inside you and pull out your wild” mode. It’s beautiful. Much more than beautiful. Simply amazing and feels even better on days like today when everything seems so bleak and forgettable. Not your words and your world though. Thank you. Forever and always. ❤️❤️❤️

    Liked by 2 people

  3. As for why people complain about shorter days… I do think it’s because they have trouble letting go things. As if eternal day would make things better. Perhaps they should ask people who live way up in the north that know both perpetual day and night. 😳😉 I find “early” night during the winter inviting. Especially when I get to go on hikes through the snow covered forests to the top of a mountain I like to share my early evening with every winter. Wearing head lamps. Snow shoes. Walking sticks. And nothing else but the wilderness around me. It’s absolutely mesmerizing and at times hazardous. But hey, we only live once. So, yes, I agree that there’s nothing appealing about longer grey days in the winter. Also, during pre covid winter times sipping on a mulled wine or honey brandy while roaming the holiday’s lights lit streets of the city was pretty damn magical too (yes, you can drink alcoholic drinks in the open where I live… 😉). Anyway, in the spirit of past holiday seasons cheers to you and your loved ones (yes, I realize this makes me look as one who can’t let go of the past, however, I could argue I am looking forward to future post covid 19 winter evenings). ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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