Category Archives: The Liminal Times
Privilege
Even suffering is privilege
to feel the sharp edge of loss
means there was something to lose,
someone who mattered enough
to carve their absence into you.
To know disappointment
is to have dreamed at all,
to have believed the world
might bend toward your hoping.
Some never get the chance to want.
Even this ache, this weight
it means you’re here,
blood still moving, nerves still firing,
the body’s insistent chorus of alive, alive.
Somewhere tonight someone is praying
just to make it to morning,
just to feel anything at all.
The privilege of breaking
is that you were whole once.
The privilege of falling
is that you stood.
The privilege of this particular darkness
is knowing what light looked like,
is remembering there is light.
Jokers to The Right
