So there is alcoholism in my family (in case you’re wondering, it isn’t me). And now I’m in my 40s and only just coming to terms with all of the pain. I was going to write more, but this is really hard.
This thing you wrote, it brought me to the brink of my tears…
but maybe the stitches weren’t good enough in the first place.
there in the eye
that still figure
of colours infinite
whispering wisdom out of the calm of millenia
deafening the cacophonic cyclone
whirlpooling through generations
drying my eyes open
have you ever thought of walking away?
The unease fits like a glove
keeping me alert to my comatosis.
what door I came through
to get here.
the here of you.
I would board it up
with orange tape
strung like the scent of warning,
evaporating from me in clouds
raining back down
to drench me again
even as i thought i was outrunning it
Rolled up in macabre
you loved/hated your web
oh the delicious collision of synchronised thoughts tonight on Facebook…I had to reshare this song from another FB friend in honour of the supermoon tonight…it is one of my favourites from the 80s.
I had the most interesting conversation with a dear, elderly friend recently. Every time I do, it makes me lament even more how our culture doesn’t value the wisdom of the elderly. There are times when I truly grieve over stories lost forever…