IT TAKES A LITTLE NURTURING EACH DAY TO THRIVE.
IT TAKES A LITTLE TEARING DOWN EACH DAY TO DIE.
WITH A LITTLE EACH DAY-A GARDEN CAN GO EITHER WAY.
I STOOD IN THE GARDEN
MY FEET BARE WITHIN THE SOIL.
YOU TORE OFF EACH PETAL OF MY SOUL-
A CARETAKER OR A SCROYLE.
MY CRIES TO ST. DYMPHNA
SHE UNDERSTOOD MY PAIN.
A SPIRIT CANNOT THRIVE
WITH JUST THE SUN AND RAIN.
YOU CAN NURTURE.
YOU CAN FEED.
YOU MAKE THE GARDEN GROW.
YOU CAN DROWN THE ROOT-
YOU CAN HACK THE STEM.
NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.
THE WATER FELL. THE SKY WAS BRIGHT.
YOU RETURNED TO SEE YOUR WORK.
THERE I WAS-
STILL GROUNDED IN THE FERTILE EARTH.
IMMURE SOUNDS TOO BEAUTIFUL
FOR WHAT IT REALLY MEANS.
I CAN SEE MY HANDS GRASPING THE BARS.
I OPEN WIDE LETTING OUT MY SCREAMS.
I CANNOT MOVE.
THERE IS NO PLACE FOR ME TO GO.
LYRICAL WORDS DECEIVE MY MIND-
I MUST BREAK FREE.
I CONTINUE TO FIGHT-
MY MAGNIFICENT MENTAL FOE.
EYES AVERTED I HEAR YOUR VOICE.
I TURN AWAY. I HAVE NO CHOICE-
BUT TO LISTEN.
WHAT YOU SAY IS CRUEL-
EVEN IF YOU SPEAK THE TRUTH.
NO CESSATION OF IMPRECATIONS-
THESE WILL NEVER GO AWAY.
BREAK THE MIRROR. WALK AWAY.
THE THOUGHTS YOU THINK-
ARE HERE TO STAY.
I am sitting here in grief.
Grief that is not mine to possess.
I can touch the memory of laughing with my son last night.
Talking about his future. Memories from the past.
Enjoying the moment between us two.
He sits with me now in the quiet as I write.
He is working. I can reach out. He is there. Breathing.
I see life. His life.
My heart is heavy for the mother. The father. They belonged to him.
He was theirs. His heartbeat.
All they have are the memories. Palpable. Grief. Life.
That space in between. Disbelief.
Primal. I can feel them.
I must hold my head. I can hear their piercing screams.
It is my imagination. The cries. They belong to me.
I reach out. I hear silence now. I see life. I see my son.