TRIGGER WARNING
talk of suicide
A bird pooped on my wind breaker as
We went through the Avery at the San Diego Zoo.
I felt free there, among the caged animals, even
The butterflies and their care free flying was
Like a testament to how you can stay free
Within a cage. Remember how you let
Our finches go? That was their death sentence
And you did not care. Your care turned inward
In a sort of self hatred. Not just sort of, but
Real, intense hatred, that I carry on with to this day.
I thought the animals in the zoo understood.
I thought they knew what a hornets nest was like.
What thrown together dinners were like,
The greens for the giraffes, the pumpkin
For the elephant. I had next to nothing in
My life. I had a churning in my stomach,
A silent devil in my throat. And
Damn my eyes, not good at hiding
The tremendous pain I was feeling
At each moment. My eyes still
Are soulless even though I am my
Own savior. What an immense responsibility
Jiggling across my shoulders, the daily
Willing and choice to not poke my eyes out
And drop this goddamn steely weight. Free myself
From this cage of my body. Broken, in constant
Pain, illness after illness diagnosed to somehow
Empower me to heal and let it go. No wonder my favorite
Poem is Seele Im Raum “It sat between my husband and
My children, a place was set for it—a plate of greens.
It had been there: I had seen it
But not somehow—but this was like a dream…”
But the animals at the zoo survived it, so maybe I could too.
The polar bear turning marsh green due to the mold and humidity.
I guess it’s better than dying on a melting iceberg, but I’m not quite sure.
Just like I am unsure in depressed moments that life is worth living.
Maybe being stranded on an iceberg would be better than being
Stranded soulfully in bed, showerless, half naked, begging the
Heaven above for sleep. I don’t believe in heaven and yet at moments I speak
In my head to some strange being I hope can hold my hand and make
The bad things go away. Too much church, too much Jesus, too many lies,
Funneled down my throat like whiskey or whipped cream.
My cage is old. My skin peels from crying too much. My body
Wants to stop breathing at night so I wear an oxygen mask like I’m going to war.
My cage is in pain. My cage is large although whats inside me is
Quite small. Possibly too small to even matter.
My cage has ink set into it in different shapes and colors, I do
Things to present myself as tough, the tougher the better as the world
Is so cruel, and I am so very deeply and widely sensitive.
I can tell you how you feel faster than you can comprehend it.
I am like a sponge. Perhaps like a green polar bear,
Dying in the heat of California. Maybe I am dying too.
I know I am, but when? Each day I fight for death to
Be one day further away. At some point every person
On earth gives up. As Valerie June sings,
“How does it feel to know that you can’t go on anymore?”
And I wonder if I am a savior or a destroyer. When I am
In my body, as myself, I feel my strength. I feel my density.
I feel reliable and committed to life.
When it is here, I doubt it all and I beg for my husband
To help me die. Understanding the incredible pain
To help me die. Understanding the incredible pain
I have has to be in to ask that question…
My heart just broke. But today feels like hell,
But I am still here. Caged in tight like
The giraffes and the Elands, perhaps not fully committed,
And yet I still persevere.
