I won’t see you
for a long time
but I know you everyday
what you were to me
I will never forget.
Cosmic projections underlying in spaces
as warm sunburnt bodies move together across the floor
purple lights in neon glow attached to the ceiling,
mind spinning with the fluorescence.
And youth- your mind is spinning with how young you are
you carry the burden in your stomach the sadness on your shoulder.
You are much too young to have abundant regrets
to be living yet dead in a bitter grave.
Wrong choices overlap each other as the grave gets deeper- I know that sometimes it feels hopeless.
Banter with old friends about the aliens and rehab centers, the girl who taught you four square teaching you how to torch the end of a crack pipe.
Cycles of the same tornadoes, dreams of constant death,you’ve seen your best friends dead body more times than you will admit. Yet they’ve never imagined yours, or imagined you, or cared.
The rose colored glasses are ripped from your face given to the other unsuspecting girl who will walk the same journey I did with him.
One-sided friendships get lonely
lovers are no longer loving
and the pino has run out.
The purple lights manifest into messages coming across the lifeline simulation- Give up those who have fallen silent, your mission is not with them.
The mission is uncertain
get a man to prison
to watch a wild orca
have a family
but the process is daily.
My mission right now is to live freely let my hair grow and stick my head out the window singing Janis Joplin tunes on the 105.5
The aliens come through once again to extend long hands and acid tabs offering insight into treasures unknown.
Time capsules I have yet to bury.
The great thing about cycles is you can stop them.
God bless the children-
As they step off the school bus
To a soccer ball, summer camp, popsicle joke stick.
Bless those who return home to empty refrigerators-
Static television and *****.
Bless the airplane rides, holding onto the edge of a seat
landing into a world where their body-
is no longer their own.
Daytime heat rising off the road
walking barefoot from the community pool,
still an aching between legs.
Bless this sky, the grass, God Bless America
And the fireworks that set fires in our bellies
Bless lightning bugs making stars in a starless black sky
Waiting for the moon to move from behind the sheet
Guide the blessed children
Move into the morning light
let me see you in the way god designed.
All of this time you’ve spent trying to
make yourself perfect
but you were perfect all along
here in this light
I sit down with a pen in my hand
after months of wordlessness
to tell you where I’ve been.
I have not written about you in awhile
or had any dreams where you’re there
you haven’t vanished from my life,
I still think about you everyday.
but I’ve found other things to occupy my mind.
The last letter you received was after you
Since then I have been a mess of emotions and
I am back on medications for my episodes
but i have not experienced one in 4 days.
It’s funny… i used to believe i was unloved-
because that’s how you made me feel
but last month i looked up and found myself
surrounded by people that love me.
I was crippled with fear last summer
where everything was difficult to do-
I couldn’t live with it.
Now, it’s like there's every opportunity, choice,
decision in front of me.
it’s a lot to handle sometimes.
I’ve told you how I wanted to end my life
that i’ve been planning for years.
I couldn’t see a few months ahead of me,
I knew I would be dead before Christmas.
I don’t know what’s going to come next,
or what will happen to me.
but I’m planning to be there for it.
You sent a lawyer after me.
Which i expected, but it still surprised me that you would.
I hope your lawyer shares pictures of me living
and being happy. Free.
How does it make you feel?
I write letters about the hard times,
not many about the good.
I’m trying to change that.
letters to massachusets
And with the pinch of my thumb the light inside of me extinguishes
we fall back into the only place that we know where we stay up all night to
drink alcohol and cry because it’s so dark now.
This way of life is easy, because when it’s like this- nobody cares about me.
and if nobody cares about me, then there's nobody to disappoint besides myself.
Nobody will open my bedroom door to see me sleeping with ***** dry on the corner of my mouth.
Nobody looking at me with sad eyes asking me what’s wrong.
And the silence is peaceful, it gives me time to think.
Time to sit in the dark.
It won't hurt like this forever.