Friday, July 22, 2016

this human thing.

When you're barely holding it together, the littlest things can set you off. One thing goes wrong and it' down the rabbit hole again, and you're crying but it's got nothing to do with the trigger. The bullet wound was already there.
I'm not supposed to talk about it. Worst it's embarrassing. Who wants to see a person crumble like this. People don't understand. Today it was a grade, a shitty grade apparently for all the shitty work I've been putting out there. Why are you crying over a grade? It's not the grade. It's the cherry on top of a whole lot of raw emotions. I hate to admit it
I'm more fragile than I thought. I don't know if strong people reach out, but I hide, and the more I hide I go unnoticed, something scattered like a stack of paper that blows away, page by page into the wind. There's a very real part of me that wants to disappear, to melt under the sun and evaporate. Be reborn as mist or wind or a fleeting raindrop and just take the fucking ride...People don't want to hear that. I don't want to say that. So I bring bird feathers back to a damn picture frame and realize my life was build on a house of sticks. One stone and the place falls down.

Friday, July 15, 2016

little one.

LC. My little elsie girl.
Here lies grief, a stubborn old seat in a game of musical chairs, nowhere else to turn. Have I failed you in some way? Reason and emotion argue a tempest inside of me that rages, trying to turn back the clock with its centrifical force. But here I still am, standing still in a world that keeps moving forward. The awkward I'm Sorry's, and mumbled it's okay's. It's old, and I'm tired of it. Like maybe I could just quit and go spend some time catching up to you. Come back to me. I love you. I'm not strong or resilient, I'm not functional. I want to die a happy child in a sea of cats and dogs and horses for family. No good at growing older. Where does your journey take you.
Today you came home in a box and i thought only a year and a half ago you came home on that same passenger seat. If I could change things for you I would. And not to save myself but because you deserved better. You deserved longer. I'm skin and bones and the echoes of the same thoughts that bounce and rebound over the same issues. Grief, the only chair left when your time is up.

All the words in the world don't change the simple fact that you were a cat, and I was a better human with you here.