Friday, February 24, 2012

Happy 200th

Guess what today is?!
Today is my 200th blog post. This is something I am incredibly proud of.
I started blogging because, well, because writing is an outlet, and having people read what I write keeps me writing frequently. I get to write every day and feel like what I have to say matters to someone. After all, the only thing I really want in life is for people to listen to what I have to say, (and of course, you know, all the other stuff I want, but among all the other stuff, I want to be heard). The other really good thing blogging does for me is a certain amount of daily vulnerability. Putting myself out there can be horrifically scary at times (though I think it's scary for everyone), but taking that risk every day - the risk that someone will read my blog and make fun of me for what I posted or judge me or what not - has been a really good exercise in vulnerability.
Plus I just really love blogging. So thank you, dear reader, whomever you happen to be, for listening to what I have to say day in and day out.
I couldn't decide what I could post for today, since it's all monuments and what not. In the end I decided to post this poem I wrote almost two months ago, but I haven't posted yet, because, guess what, it's one of those poems written with real vulnerability. Here we go anyway.

Game Over

My first memory is a question I asked you
a question you did not answer
Mommy, what’s happening?
You left the scene without looking back
leaving me in the weeds
Didn’t you
know or care?                           
I couldn’t follow
three is not a die-able age
twenty-six is also too young
not that it stopped you           
nothing stopped you

The story was later told.
As I watched you go
I promised you I would take care of him
but he was my brother and that was your job and
I couldn’t do it
I can’t be you
I failed.                And,                       
who takes care of me?
Strangers – whose
names I learned and forgot –
pulled me out from the wreckage
ruins of  the life we didn’t have
took me to their home
wrapped me in their pink and white checkered blanket
put flowers in my hair     
In the morning I asked
to call you
so I could tell you I missed you
the nameless strangers said No                        
I cried.             After all, phones are used
to talk to people that can’t be seen
and you had vanished

Eventually I was claimed collected
a real life built for me
I fit your wedding gown
and still feel like a child
the Decembers and Junes
skinned knees and storybooks
have added up
this life of mine
wheezes, desolate and hollow                                                           
                                                            the tear, sewn-up, still shows
I’ll tell you a secret:
the antithesis of love is not hate
but abandonment


  1. I love love love love this poem

  2. You're writing a book one day. And then a poetry book.