April Poem Dump!

A good friend of mine challenged her friends via Facebook to participate in April as national poetry month. Her call to action was a poem a day, and while I have not met that, I have certainly attempted.

Some of it's crap. Some of it is starting toward being decent. Other parts...eh. Probably should be poetry and would be better conveyed in prose.

And this is how I mark the change in my days. I make sure it's on the internet somewhere, because lurking fears that my mind will descend into the infinite fog of forgetting still linger.

Hey future self, if that shit happens again:
you can make it out. Take some L-methylfolate. Keep trying. Keep fighting. Some infinities are bigger than others, just like what's-his-jerkface told Hazel Grace. You got out before and you can do it again. This infinity will shrink, eventually, under the unending and overwhelming force of love. Other things will grow by comparison. Thriving happens again. Survival first. Make it out. Find a stick, or borrow one, or ask for one. Force the Universe to make a way out. Use the knife.* Accept help. Ask for what you need. Let people love you; let them love you let them love you let them love you. It's okay to need. It's okay to ask. It's okay to want and cry and be disappointed. It's okay to be numb and blunt and a little socially awkward while you get out of the dark. Never be cruel (and in case you forget, we stay away from those always-words, you and I).

My life has shifted radically in ways I did not predict (which, I suppose, is good). I never imagined this would be my life- writing on my blog while BurritoZor, Pocket, and Neyo watch closeby, Morgan and Jack watch faraway, and Fenrir sleeps on the couch, awaiting my invitation to actually go to bed; working at a "call center" with some surprisingly awesome people; collecting people to benefit the whole collection; and giving, finally having things to be giving, and feeling safe enough to simply give away.


*In retrospect, that sounds really dark. It's supposed to be a reference to Phillip Pullman's book "The Subtle Knife."