Apricot Press

Some potential grief

By Úna Ní Nualláin

‘And in the leaving, what scares you?’

The life that rotted alongside mine. The lips I came close to but didn’t kiss. I had only your breath. All the
recipes I never learnt, spices I never ground or freshly toasted. Marinating- I never marinated.

That I made someone worse. Did I take your dreams with me when I left?

Shades of certain green. I don’t know if I celebrated them enough. Did I remember to hold leaves in my
hands? What is the texture of leaves?

I slept in clean sheets and was too scared to dirty them. That I was too worried about the mess of it all.

Lord, don’t let me forget to play.

Burning the Love Letter

By Úna Ní Nualláin

A burning haibun must be composed of three (or more) parts—an initial prose poem, an erasure of that prose poem, and an erasure of the previous erasure leaving a haiku.

i.
Writing down bad quotes and putting them all around me. Oversharing with friends, not caring how it affects them. Eating far too much hummus. People who do not do what they say they will do. You, maybe. Thinking trees hold up the sky. Clementines that don’t peel in one clean skin. Garlic that sticks under my fingernails and I breathe in deeply. Gag. Photo albums that show a non-sequitur life of sports days and lost teeth. Being scared of what I do. Waking up and not knowing what I should do with my day. Phone calls answered on first rings. Ignoring phone calls until they ring out. You, maybe. Doomscrolling for so long I forget how to read. My brain turning gooey. Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. It was the sun coming up at the afters. Losing my breath in the ocean.  Losing my breath on the bus. Losing my breath again. Wishing you got it right the first time. Getting it wrong the first time. Getting it wrong again. Finally go to therapy, for real this time. Not letting the bad voice win. Knowing you can be better. Being sixteen and then seventeen. The world continuing to turn. Leaving a party at the exact right time. Setting paper on fire and watching it blacken and crumble. Letting go. Knowing what I need, unable to just leave it alone. You, maybe. 

ii. 
Writing quotes and putting them all around me. Sharing with friends. Caring how it affects them. People do what they say they will do. Thinking in clean skin. Knowing what I should do with my day. You, maybe. The light at the end of the tunnel. The sun, again. Getting it wrong again. Letting you be better. Continue letting go. Knowing what I need. You, maybe.

iii. 
Friends. Thinking about 
the light.  Be better. Continue.
I need you, maybe. 

Photo credit: iridial