If 2020 were a book, it’d be a final product
From endless drafts of chicken scratch
Etched with anxious thoughts,
Pages soaked in depression.
A de cluttering of emotional roller coaster chapters.
Sectioned to fears that crept through the castle of my mind,
As the paper-thin walls came crumbling down.
Stories sprinkled through the pages of people loved and lost,
Drown out by the hurricanes of doubt and isolation.
Bookmarking the paragraphs of life saving moments,
Barely keeping me afloat in a cyclone of loneliness
Turning a page of acknowledgement into a chapter of its own.
A follow-up that honors the gratuitous moments
Where folks and concepts rebuilt the foundation
Of my strength, layered brick by brick.
A chapter dedicated to the unwritten poems & silenced voices.
Promoting a sequel of grocery lists, to be tossed upon the pile of burning
Del aNo Viejo, being dragged through the streets of Veracruz.
Leaving blank pages for self-reflection,
Sticky noted with direction to my future self
A repurposed mantra for 2021.
-Sueitko Zamorano-Chavez
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