A Poem From the Future

I wonder if she knows you made it out?

Do you remember when u went back home for Christmas and called G on the phone from ur childhood bedroom? And you said to her – shit, the lil T that lived here in this room, she could not have imagined the life she would create for herself.

And now, you always ask me, I wonder if lil T knows. Does she know they can’t get u anymore? That you put a state between urself and them. You could put a country. You could put oceans and fields and all of your parts one by one – between them and u.

< - - - - -

Oh T, you said to me the other day, when I was in pain, interject my voice. We already know u can interject voices – u interjected their voice; now interject mine. And as I was falling asleep that night I heard you say – I want all of your parts. And for the next week, I replayed your words in my head, listening to them as if I was falling forward. 

< - - - - -

I always said the most difficult thing, the most subaltern form of suffering, is when you cannot give language or meaning to pain. When u don’t even have the words to understand why u feel so bad. I have spent my whole life trying to elevate the suffering; to give it pathos, poetry. But, maybe the best way to give meaning to pain is to just acknowledge it exists.

“You come here for the story, not the myth of the story.”

< - - - - -

I still remember the first time you said to me;

u know it hurts right because
she still sits on that couch
trying to pass the time 
waiting for the future to come

Your voice travelling thru me like speeding light.

< - - - - -

I wonder if you know she did her best.

You were so convinced u went through all this stuff that broke ur body. But that’s not true. Everything she was suppose to do she did. She disassociated, so u wouldn’t have to feel as much. She screamed, so u could communicate your pain to others. She fought, so that u could get out. You’re not overly sensitive. You’re not overly emotional. You don’t even have an animal brain that is overly alert to threats that do not exist. The problem was never; what’s wrong with you. But rather, why couldn’t you see the work she was doing to keep yourself alive.

< - - - -

I wonder if she knows you are proud of her.
That you know she was lonely
That you know she was so scared
That you know she just wanted to be loved ­– even when she couldn’t keep going.

< - - - - -

I know you want to tell her – so just so tell her.

I will never leave u. I want all of your parts.  

< - - - - -

Do you remember when u went back home for Christmas and you wrote urself a note on the bus to the airport?

Do not go back just because they say you have to.
Do not go back because you feel guilty or because of the restless wrestless grief.

Hold on to the tolling bell inside your chest.
Dig your feet into the dirt, clench your jaw against the slap, and hold on as you are flung into the sky.

When the sound barrier breaks your ears will bleed and you may vomit,
but do not believe what they say; the outside will not kill you.
Do not turn around now because of fear – you are so close
Do not go back now – even if the feeling is stabbing u over and over again.

Trust the small voice in your head, give it your attention, give it everything you have.
This is how change happens.

And from the edge of this new world, you will send back a poem so she will know;
she too will make it out.

Lil T  < - - - - -  < - - -  < - - - -  < - - - - -  < - - - -   < - - - - - -  < - - - - - -  < - - - - - - < - - - - - - - -

(the poem)    

This piece is dedicated to Pickle – who lived thru it with me and who is brave just like her.