The End of the End is Near

Death sucks.

Everyone has their own way of dealing with the loss of someone they care deeply about. The dynamics of grieving in a close-knit family have a tendency for awkward power struggles as everyone begins to lash out at each other for an inability to properly handle the loss of control that death preemptively alludes to, that in the end, we really have no control whatsoever over who comes and goes and when, only that at some point everyone will.

Yesterday we went to see my grandpa for probably the last time in his living time. It’s sweet to watch my Aunt latch onto him and call him ‘daddy’, like she’s the same little girl again, needing him still. I see my own daddy and remember the various stages of death we learned about through the process of watching him die. Everyone is anxious over the end as if afraid to face some inevitable truth.

In these moments I am thinking about my own way of grieving. I’ve always been the strong one, always. Sometimes this strength is seen in others as a certain coldness, some weird inability to show my true emotions in the moment. Maybe some would say I have an avoidant style in my mourning. I don’t believe that’s true. I grieve things in my own way, a way that works for me. I’m realistic about it the whole way through, some deaths are harder than others, some took me years to grieve.

My dad said I had a rough childhood growing up because I was always going to funerals. I never believed this either. I don’t know why, I just always had an understanding with death. It hurts a lot to lose the closest people to you, don’t get me wrong I have cried a lot over the deaths of the closest people to me and it’ll kill me even more inside when my mama goes, but I feel I’ve always had a certain understanding with death.

Shining Star by Nneka

I’m actually surprised I haven’t written about this song yet, but enough time has passed that it’s about time!

“You’re my peace of mind…”

That time we drove the rental out into the Oregon back woods, ‘where are we going?’, ‘does it matter?’, that little path we found to the creek, you looked like you were fishing upstream walking barefoot on those cold creek stones, I looked like I was drowning -terrified I might be, we crawl through the moss, you look like a real nature warrior, ‘does it look like this where you’re from?’, ‘no, does it look like this where you’re from?’, ‘no,’

“I pray my love will give you life…”

That Broadway bathroom, I can still see the trees, feel the breeze of that first June summer air, that plush green lawn, we sang together each and every shower, and I still only think of you every time I hear this song,

“You’re my shining star…”

The Discovery of a Poem About an Ex

I’m never going to be the girl to chase you
because love isn’t about convincing, it’s about letting people be

So I’ll give you all the space
to find whatever your heart needs
and I’ll go on living

I’m not saying it’s easy and for me it’s not a game
It’s just the realization that our hearts no longer beat the same

The first and last time our bodies lay naked
You felt electric, but I felt the empty longing of your soul
and darling, it’s not my love that’s going to fill that black hole

So I’ll give you all the space
to find whatever your heart needs
and I’ll go on living

Yankee Bayonet by The Decemberists

“Heart-carved tree trunk…”

Advanced English Composition, group projects bring the boy with the strawberry blonde locks, he asks you to drive his car after class, obvious choice,

“A sweetheart left behind…”

The drugs he consumes become apparent, ‘I am the DD for a stranger’s ill fated sobriety’, the corneas and cupids swell, pupils dwell in dilated epitaphs, shrooms and synthetic strains of airborne ether,

“Far from the hills of the sea-swelled Carolinas…”

He follows me to my dorm, he sits on the bed and talks gibberish nonsensically, a swift exit, to explore my own imagination, what great capacity reality, another infinity obliterates,

“That’s where my true love lies…”

Good Ol’ Fashion Nightmare by Matt & Kim

“Show me the side streets in your life…”

The month of May, second semester 2010, spring is in the air, that lilac tree, oh! how the pinks and purples pollinate me!

“Petty theft for penny crimes…”

A borrowed CD on a busted player – they can’t miss what they don’t know is gone, macaroni and cheese, a synapse glimpse to the science hall, mid-afternoons spent in historical notoriety, the times they really are a-changin’, a quick rinse thru the dishes, an open door on a second floor balcony,

“and we yell!”

That concert we missed in the city, forgotten identification -don’t worry he’ll make it up to you in 6 years, a planetarium, a concert hall, a subway ride converges with a drunk bike ride, two completely different experiences merge into one memory, separate the crowd, the future boys will think you’re cool cause you dance,

“AHHHH!!! Like a good ol’ fashion nightmare…”

Gatekeeper by Feist

This song just came on my YouTube playlist. I quickly searched to see if I’d written about this place and time in my mind’s eye; what luck!

“Gatekeeper, seasons wait for your nod…”

Cuddled up from head to tow, November nights, snow storms and those $75 in city fines accumulated from blocked up driveways from city parking jobs, that apartment that smelled like sausages, political activation, rusty pipes in a dingy basement set the scene, the magic carpet ride,

“It’s a scene you set for new lovers…”

Battleships, colouring books, The Village, a pull down mattress and all those other boys that laid between us, our love only fared well beneath the sheets, you’ll kiss me once, I’ll always fall asleep and sneak away at 4am,

“You play your part, painting in a new start…”

You’ll always wonder where I’ve gone,

“Each gate will open another…”

A Poem on an Envelope Back

They can’t stand nudity

stark back handed cruelty

Catch ’em at the dime store sucking down frugality

Magnetic back plastic stacks flow with constant fluidities

Racking up debt like D-average truencies

Two halves the same whole complete these congruencies

Their minds eyes run dry with wind blown rigidities

and they’ll never know who, the verse is written so cryptically