The Poetry Marathon

On a Sunday afternoon, my dad called. 

This was unusual, since, well, 

We don’t call each other. So

I knew that meant that

Something was very wrong. 

I hadn’t even answered yet, 

Heart in my throat, racing,

But I knew it was my mother.

Otherwise, it would be her

Name on the caller ID.

“She’s having chest pains,

She can’t breathe. Just 

Come to the hospital.” 

I wish I still had no idea 

What a pulmonary embolism was. 

I sat at her bedside all night, the 

Doctors said they hope she’ll

Wake up by morning. I don’t 

Want to think about what I’ll 

Do if she doesn’t. 

The beeping of the machines

Has never quite gotten out of 

My head, even five years later,

Even with her completely fine. 

To stand on the precipice like

That with the one person who’s been 

There since day one is a different 

Kind of terror. And two years later, 

When my aunt died in that same

ICU room, I couldn’t help but 

Thank God for the first time in 

My life, and believe in miracles.

I wish that I had known back then

That asking for help was an option. 

Before the downward spiral, before

I took things out on myself, before 

I had failed out of college, before

I was a shell of who I used to be. 

When someone asked if I 

Needed help, I desperately wish

I had known that ‘yes’ was an option. 

That ‘yes’ would open doors that

Could’ve saved me from so much

More pain. 

Instead, I took 10 years to see

That suffering was not the only 

Choice, like I had seen others

Make. I could do it differently 

And end the cycle with me. 

When I finally have a daughter, I 

Can’t wait to show her all the good

In life. I want to wrap her in all the

World’s kindness, show her the music

That gets us through the bad days. 

I want to travel together and 

Meet new cultures, experience

Everything good there is to see

Before she can even think about 

The bad in the world. 

I do not want her spirit poisoned

Before she has a chance to embrace it. 

I have spent my whole life trying to find

My way back to my soul and my only 

Regret is that it took so long to find.

When death comes I hope she

Takes the form of my mother. 

Even if it is a lie, I hope she takes 

Me into her arms and lifts me into 

The afterlife, the way she held me

When I came into this world.

It would be the only fair thing 

In life so far. 

Anxiety makes fear amplify

But I will never let it win

So I’m staring them all down.

I imagined caskets,

Smiled back at the clowns,

And ate spiders.

Now, I can

Devour

Fear.

Long after you were gone I still policed myself 

To fit your expectations. I couldn’t 

Shake the feeling that this was another test. 

So I behaved and repressed so I 

Wouldn’t have to feel your wrath – 

Long after it was clear you weren’t coming back. 

Now, I just hope you treat him better. 

It gives me some solace to think that maybe

I was the guinea pig you tested the limits on,

that I saved another from all of this trauma. 

I’m still learning how to not blame others for you. 

To not see pieces of you tucked in their smile

And clam up, immediately conjuring up what

Always came after that smirk. I can’t quite explain

The ways in which you made a smile seem dangerous. 

How that rewires the brain in the worst way. 

I can only hope that at least something good

Came out of all the pain – that you know now 

Breaking point of a person, and you’ll never push 

Anyone else quite so close to the edge.

If I could live inside a

Single moment. It’s

When I’m wine drunk on

Christmas. Mom and dad 

Just gifted me a record player

And dad broke out his old 

Vinyls. We start with what

We know while he digs through

The sounds of his childhood to

Find that one song. His quiet laughter at

My sister and I dancing and 

Giggling in the kitchen, cozy

Warmth of family togetherness.

A moment I would give anything 

To get back.

They say that the same water that

Hardens the egg, softens the potato. 

So I try not to take it too personally 

When you tell me that I’m being

Overly dramatic, that the situation

Can’t possibly call for all hands on deck. 

I try the tricks the therapist gave me,

Breathe in and breathe out, 

Count out the senses, 

Write it out and meditate…

But the sound of impending doom

Is louder than any trick in the book. 

Yet you just sit there calmly, 

Unbothered as I feel the 

World crumbling and 

Leaving me alone, standing 

On uneven ground.

What I wouldn’t give to have 

The same self-assuredness,

Confidence in things just

Working out how they need to. 

Like magic. 

Isolation isn’t helpful in

The apocalypse. 

I See Fire (Erasure)

By Ed Sheeran

I will never understand why

‘Normal’ is the gold standard. We were 

Not born to live the same lives as everyone else and 

Then die with nothing unique to show for it. 

Give me loud, bright hair,

Tattoos of pure art that cover your skin,

Laughter too boisterous for the atmosphere.

Give me your weird dances, ugly faces, 

Raw emotion and guttural pain. 

I want to see it all. 

To be human is to be different. 

If that wasn’t the case why aren’t 

We just clones of each other, robots 

Instead of free-will-driven people? 

Why should we try to change that?