Heaven: FUCK YEAH I'M FINALLY IN!!!

Hey guys, I made it! My computer has been redirecting me to my school email everytime I try to log in, so this is a momentous occasion for me! I finally get to post!

Anyway, all I really wanted to post was a poem I wrote-- it's the first poem I've written in over a year, believe it or not! This depression has had me in a funk, but the poem will say everything I've been needing to say for a long time.

You guys are awesome, and thinking about you gave me the hope to persevere.

The Long Winter
January 2011- October 2012

I look back
On those metaphors
And similes
I had when
I was a kid—
Sinking ships
Train wrecks
Old India Ink
Pumping through
My bloodstream.

Peter,
when did I
grow old?

When did I
lay down
my pen?

How long have I
Been grieving,
Wandering
This labyrinth?

Divorce
Abuse
Depression
Death
Drug addiction
Blame blame blame
Fire
Fight
Fright

Dad, I know—
I understand now
But then
I was just so afraid
You would die;
That I’d come in
To shake you awake
And find you stiff
Instead of pale
And shivering.

And then there were
The fights;
The slamming doors.
“Why don’t you just go
Take some fucking pills!”
I scream
After Dad tells me
I am
Heartless
Cold
And mean.

I feel blank.
I am alone.
I am stupid
Fat
Ugly

The Great Paradox:
Am I living
Or dying
In this mortal body?
I convinced myself
Death
Was the next
Big adventure,
Until my heart
Went supernova.

It stopped beating;
I stopped breathing.
Sipping into silence…

All is calm

Before the storm.

The firetrucks.
The ambulance.
The smoke.

Anxiety attacks.
Sitting in the
Hospital parking lot
Until I stop
Shaking.
Sleep, sleep.

I watch Grandpa
Grow grayer and grayer,
Thinner and thinner.
I plea him to go
To the doctor.
He is too worried
About Dad.
About me, too.

Every day
I cry
Until my boyfriend
Pulls the pillows
Over his head,
To drown
The sound of
Me
Drowning.

I try to save Christmas
Now that Dad, Grandpa,
And the dog
Live in a hotel room.
I dress up as
The Christmas Faerie.
Me and Dad fight—
“Shut up,” he rumbles,
When I tell him
He is not welcome
To do drugs
In my home.

Even so,
He’s giving us all
The best gift—
He agreed to go
To Rehab.

Finally

Relief

Life
Can
Slow
Down

But
Then

The Big “C” strikes—
Who knew that
Time
Could stop
After the blur
Of years
Blind.

Now

We drive Grandpa
To chemotherapy,
Feed him everything
The doctor recommends.
I get him a lap dog
Since he can’t
Get out too much
Anymore.
She’s in love with him.

For once, the whole family
Is together—aunts, uncles,
Cousins, brothers, sisters,
Nieces, nephews—
We throw a birthday party;
We host a dinner;
Play cards;
Watch TV;
Sit and Talk, mostly—
Remember
Laugh
Cry.

We get a record player
And listen to
Glenn Miller, Loretta Lynn,
And old Broadway vinyl.

I write a song.
I read a book.
I sew a quilt.
I knit a toy.
I walk my dog.
I drink whiskey.
I make friends.
I dance.

We light a bonfire
At the cabin
And I throw my shoes in
And laugh.

I smoke more pot than ever.

And I’m in love,
With Sonny Malcom,
And the trees,
And life.

Dad’s getting married.
Grandpa’s staying strong.

And I’m finally writing again.