letting go

we should be proud
of ourselves
that we gave it
one
last
try
we should not
be so hard
on ourselves
for failing at something
we had little chance
of winning
you & i
just do not
belong
together
we should accept
let go
move on
& just stop
fighting
a truth we may not
agree with
but a truth
nonetheless.

i wish i could say this to him. but i am at the point where i am not even able to talk to him. anything i say–everything i say, he finds a way to twist into something ugly & profane.
i find
i just have to say less & less.
which drives him crazy. that is not my intent. i wish we could have a conversation & work things out.
but after enough circles, i really can’t see a happy ending for us.

i’ve already cried over you

so my mom died in january
& i didn’t find out until march
& now her funeral is scheduled for next week.
though i vowed not to go to her funeral should she die, i am going. me, the minions, & the dad are trekking down to texas.

this “poem” is a string of things said between my mom & me. not really a conversation. i’m not sure we ever actually had a conversation.

my mother

almost one year exactly
after the death of my father
i found out
about the death of my mother
though she had been dead
almost
two months…
now i am
an overgrown
orphan.

smoke & ashes

i don’t think
my lonely
could get any
bigger
i mean
where would it go
even?
that much
lonely?
it would fill
a hot air balloon
& float it
to the moon
i wish
i could
send my lonely
to the moon
root it out of
its nest
in my
heart
burn it
in a bonfire
on a dark solstice night
turn my lonely
to smoke & ash
& wait for the light
to
return.

with big feelings come art journal pages. as i learn how to celebrate my brother instead of mourning him…the other pain rises to the surface. the pain of a broken heart.
a broken marriage.
a man who could not be the person i needed him to be and instead became a monster set on destroying me.
devouring
me.
the lonely is so large right now as i don’t know how i will ever find love again.
but my heart still wants to look.

heavy

when someone close to you
dies
it becomes part of your description
she has brown hair
a nice smile
and her brother is dead

birthdays are the hardest
his last one
I didn’t know
it was the last
his voice sad on the telephone
my pledge to keep in touch
this time

we live in a world
where I can obsessively search for
intimate details of his death
available in short video
burning plane
gray matter splattered on a playground
his last words, “oh, fuck.”

notorious IT guy for the other side
the Forrest Gump of stolen elections
everything reminds me
of him
the sound of a single engine plane
sad songs on the radio
politics, Christmastime, and charismatic men

I drink Irish whiskey this time of year
but it was Scotch at his wake
four years now
four years since the last election
four years since the plane crash
a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream
murder Republican style

when someone close to you
dies
do you let it redefine you?
hello, I’m Connell
a mama, a student, an artist
let me tell you
about my dead brother

(written in 2012)

the color of my tears

the color of my tears
is the color of my eyes
some muted mix
of blue & green
that falls freely from my eyes

i get my brother’s birthday & his death day
mixed up in my head
he was born…
three weeks (& 45 years later)
he died
the last i spoke to him
was his birthday
so it is the last i remember of him
from the end of november
to almost christmas
it all blends together.
the end of him
& every time i see 12:19 on a clock
i forget that it is the birthday
of my children’s father
& only remember
it as my brother’s death
day.

death of a turkey…

when i was a kid
there was so much violence
so much abuse
so much animal death
my pets gone–just like that
that i learned to disconnect
to stop loving
to stop caring
to stop bonding
and as an adult this continued
this disconnect
i had trouble with relationships
sure that they would leave
or god forbid they had self-destructive tendencies
it was too much for me
i disconnected
i could not bond
and i would try to have pets as an adult
but it was easier to hate them then to love them
love is a fragile thing
so easily killed
i was repulsed by neediness…repulsed by being needed
i closed down
shut off
i often wondered if i could ever even have kids?
was i capable of love at all?
sometimes i still wonder….

shortly after the above picture was taken, a raccoon killed one of my turkeys and injured the leg of another. i named the injured turkey isabeau and took her into my house. i dressed her wound, fed her blue berries and honey and put apple cider vinegar in her water and bathed her when she got too stinky.
months went on. spring turned to summer. her leg healed, but she stopped walking. her non-injured leg became palsied. one wing became disfigured by her always laying on the same side. i would try to put her on her other side–or in a sling–but nothing seemed to help.
and while her brothers & sisters grew huge and mature

she remained frozen in her juvenile state, a third the size of them.

i felt myself turn off. i mean, i cannot pinpoint the exact moment, but it happened. i started being annoyed by her. frustrated with her. dreaming at night that she finally got up and walked again, while watching every day as she just kind of flopped around. i admired her perseverance…but in the end, she just gave up.

i just wish i hadn’t given up first.

i thought i would be relieved when she died. she had become a burden…a difficulty…one more thing to take care of on a busy day. i mean, i knew she would die eventually. there was no way she could continue on like that–what if she tried to lay an egg–that alone would kill her–painfully. she was so vulnerable….
and now she is no longer suffering….

so why do i feel like i failed her? because my heart shut down? because i could no longer muster the energy to care about her even though i was still caring for her?

i don’t like that i learned to shut down when there was danger of pain by abandonment (be it death or whatever.) i want to feel the pain & live through it. i want my heart to warm back up and not be so quick to disappear.

i cried today. i did not expect to cry over my dead turkey.
but, like most mourners, i am not crying for her…i am crying for me.
as i try to assure my kids we did everything we could for her…in my cold heart i feel as if i should have done more…i wish i were capable of having done more.

 

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑