On the face of her phone,Wylenne programs a message to herselfso when the alarm clock rings,the screen flashes"every day is one day less,everyday is one day less."For some peoplehappiness...it's just a reduction in suffering.
Like Jordan.Jordan tattoos the words"FORGIVE ME"in thick black lettersdown the inside of his arm,so that when he looks at his wrist,he will remember to not hate himself so much.
After Jack left,Mary started sticking her facebetween the film projectorand the movie screen,so that when the credits roll,she still gets to be somebody.
When Tara's past comes back,she mashes chalk into the sidewalkuntil her knuckles bleed.She scribbles and scrapesscribbles and scrapes,until the words take shape,and this is what they say,they say, "i wanna die."hold tight if I love you coz it might not last long.
we're all gonna die.that's the exciting part.It's learning how to live for a living.That's the tricky bitch.Just ask Denise,
Denise, whose family taught her when she came into this world,that family equals love.So, Denise took that shit seriouslybut after a lifetime of craving acceptance from their cruelty,she now finds herself jamming polaroid pictures of these people into her typewriterand pounding out the last letter of the word "mercy"over and over.
She strikes the key "y","why why why why why."
And the answer?It comes in the form of a hand written letter from the moon.
It says,"This is brutally beautiful.So are we.This is endless.So are we.We can heal this.
P.S. See me for who I am. We got work to do.
But my father,he didn't read moon,he didn't speak moon,he didn't write moon.So there was no note
There are still days you can catch metape recording internal silenceand playing it backwards for an empty room.Just so I can listen to his dying wish."shhh"
It's true.The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.But thank goodness,My family treewas in an orchard on a hillthat rolled me to the riverand that riverripped me to the rapidsand those rapidsrushed me into this moment.Right here,right now,with you.At the mouth.
My mouth....this is my church.And this church is a house of healing.Hallelujah.Welcome,come on in.As you are.Have a look around.
There are massive stacks of bad choices in my backyard,clearly, I have not yet reached enlightenmentbeyond a few fleeting moments,but i'm trying.
And I found something here I want you to have,it's not much,just a story,but it's all I got.So take it.It's called Dillon.
Dillon's drug of choice was "more."So Dillon took more and more and more.Until the day he woke up babbling in a pool of his own traffic jam.Realizing he is killing off the best parts of himself,
When he looked down at his heart flap,it read "boy, go find your spine, and ride it out of here."
Wylennes guts said "Day one."Jordans arm read "fully forgiven."Mary's face, "The ENDless."Tara's knuckles,"Healing."Denise's fingers typed, "C""See see see see see."
and Dylan said my smile,it said "fix it."So I came back here, to the mouth of the riverto look at my own reflection under the moonlightand see what it says for myself.
On my whole body, it is written..
See me for who I am.We got work to do.Our skin, "brutally beautiful."a hand written letter from the Sun.
Buddy Wakefield
No comments:
Post a Comment