I married you
for all the wrong reasons,
charmed by your
dangerous family history,
by the innocent muscles, bulging
like hidden weapons
under your shirt,
by your naive ties, the colors
of painted scraps of sunset.
I was charmed too
by your assumptions
about me: my serenity—
that mirror waiting to be cracked,
my flashy acrobatics with knives
in the kitchen.
How wrong we both were
about each other,
and how happy we have been.
– Linda Pastan
happy 34th anniversary to my crazy in love parents.
…Don’t be afraid. The future is not disguised
as sleep. It is a tango. It is a waterfall between
two countries, the river that tried to drown you.
It is a city where men speak a language
you can fake if you must. It’s the hands of children
thieving your empty pockets. It’s bicycles
with bells ringing through the streets at midnight.
Come up from the basement. It’s not over…
– Traci Brimhall
a six year old died last month in a small town near mine. they now officially ruled it a suicide, which it clearly, most gut wrenchingly it was.
last week also marked the 1 year anniversary of D leaving us. i can feel my friends gripping whatever they can as we remember and brace at the reminder.
the anniversary of my sweet cousin C’s suicide at 18 is coming up. all this death and heartache are sirens after the fact, after the need, hopefully alarms to been keen to the suffering of others like them, before they are lost.
may we reach them in time. bring them out of the basement. tell them they’re not alone.
national suicide hotline: 1-800-273-8255