Weeks, since writing.
Cause? Open heart surgery.
Recuperating is like watching hair grow.
He said many things.
She did the same.
Words, on repeat, like radio.
You don’t really know someone.. until you do.
A wakeup call.
We went from green to red.
I take responsibility.
For stepping over my boundaries.
I carry that mark.
Wounds, please heal fast.
I hope time is our friend, my love.
What a time to be disconnected
In this beautiful, vast cyber city.
What should be hibernation with cuddles and warm blankets
What should be hugs holding us through the night –
Let’s see how it turns out…
Heart. Pride. Certainty. Love.
This is my shadow.
A life a few feet behind me.
That shirt. God, I thought I tossed it.
This smell..brings me back to here.
When it was then.
I sat at this very table processing, organizing, dreaming, concocting.
He sat catching a show on the tube.
I would go to sleep full of dreams and plans and, well, darkness.
How can you build on unsteady ground?
This work is hard and real and very necessary.
These pants. I hope they fit.
Do I still want the books, the socks, the dusty makeup?
Maybe not the makeup.
The muffled city outside taps on my window.
Tomorrow, lovely one. Tomorrow.
My little treetop of goodness.
How it fills my soul.
Silence. No dog. No schedule. No errands.
Not yet. Just. Me.
Hard work happens on an exhaustive plane home,
Unpacking and sifting and embracing my fragile heart.
Eyes like thick drops of oil.
Body like a sleepy kitten. Make that an older cat.
Mind swimming uphill with zest, or maybe desperation.
Tomorrow, lovely one. Tomorrow.
I’m parked and looking over a park
Man, you would love this one
I’ll have to bring you here sometime.
I am exhaling a deep sigh,
Taking a breather. From you.
I know I can be an ass. I know that my patience runs thin and I get into my moods.
I know I’m snippety and judgemental and can work from primary colors
I know you know I’m only human (thank god)
And I appreciate that you still come to me when I call (thank you)
You will never get this since we removed your testicles,
but it’s hard being a parent, man.
No matter how much shit I’ve dealt with, there’s still so much more.
And I’m only human.
I. Am. Only. Human.
My imperfections can have scary faces and ugly temperaments (even to me)
Being a parent means being a better version of myself
And sometimes I don’t want to do that.
Sometimes I want to be the ‘youngen,’ the child, the receiver.
I want to chuck tantrums and throw all responsibility out the window
Every single piece of it.
Continue reading “dear jackie”
FADE IN: a couple who have been arguing.
Let’s pretend for a while. Let’s be two different people with different pasts and different heartaches.
What are you talking about?
Let’s forget we’re fighting and pretend we don’t know each other. “Hey there,” (he smiles)
“How’s the coffee?”
I’m not playing this stupid game
“That’s a pretty dress.”
“Thank you,” (she mutters as she rolls her eyes)
“Got something special happening today?”
“Nope, just waiting for my boyfriend to wake the fuck up.”
“Oh, he’s a late sleeper?”
“No, he’s a dickhead who can’t see what’s in front of him.”
“Well, if he forgets to tell you, know that you heard it from me: you look beautiful.”
(she looks away)
“You are beautiful.”
Stop it (she looks away again)
“Can I get you a blueberry muffin to go with your coffee?”
Name: Nick from San Francisco
Occupation: student of hair
Tattoos on his face
Why the lapse in time? I relapsed, went back to rehab. Yeah, I’m 1.5 years sober, third time now. Did you know 3% who leave rehab go back to using, and only 1% kick it after 5 years? Yeah, it’s no joke. Opioids are the real thing.
I mean. When you’re on it. It’s like you’re being hugged by God. The feeling. I mean, I can’t explain it. But here’s the thing: the first few times, you get that God-hugging feeling, but then, for all the other times, you’re trying to feel normal. You’re doing what it takes to avoid the detox feeling. And that feeling, is like death, 10x. It’s the worst kinda flu that just doesn’t go away. I mean, it does after 3 weeks but that feels like an eternity. We all dread it so we keep using. It’s living in hell on a hamster wheel.
You know, I think that’s what happened to Michael J and Prince and even that actor guy, Phillip Hoffman. They detoxed, they tried to kick the game, they went back to the same dose they were taking before — bang, bang — it tips them over the edge. Heroin makes you sleep, so they went to sleep.
I know so many people who’ve died in my life. Oh man. My girl, her boyfriend – I mean, they never really broken up cuz he died – his death rocked her. And she was a user, that’s how we met. She was in a rehab in Milwaukee and then transferred to the San Francisco one and yeah, that’s how we met. She’s one month ahead of me but she’s really miles beyond me. I think it’s the combination of having a rock like her, and purpose. That keeps me outta trouble.
Don’t think my parents are whack. The two of them are the only sober ones out of a family of users. We have a good relationship. We talk every day. You gotta understand, opioids they’re non-discriminative. It’ll swallow anyone who wants to dance. Anyone. You too. [he shyly laughs]
Dear Lil’ One,
Oh mighty one
Survival is an interesting thing.
Living from a fight or flight perspective is daunting and exhausting.
I know you know this.
And yet, here we are yet again, sitting opposite each other.
It’s the waiting game.
Who’ll quit first.
I want you to know
I come with peace in my heart
A white flag in my hand
Hoping we can come to some agreement.
Hoping you’ll be open to some space
A lil’ room for a shift in perspective
See what kind of information that tells us.
The truth is,
What we’ve been doing hasn’t been working.
I know you feel this.
We are spinning plates.
How about a new journey
A new path
No map, besides our instincts and love
Not fear, not competition, not stupid pride
Nothin’ but us.
There is space for you.
There is love for you.
There is possibility beyond this.