Graduation

            Daughter, you that stands with her hip bones pressed against that cruel railing. Don’t climb over; this isn’t your time. But look down anyway. It’s important that you understand what we are clutching to our chest. You will remember this moment forever, feel that splitting feeling you feel when you walk away, but it will be with painful relief. There is nothing I can tell you now to convince you it will be better, but it will be. Even when you feel crushed under the weight of too many medications, when you hold glass soaked in the blood of your loved ones, and when you cannot bring yourself to forget the way your hair smelled the morning after, you will be grateful for the air in your lungs. We have what we have until we don’t have it anymore, so don’t give it away so soon. There will be a day when the future doesn’t feel like days of endless nothing; when instead it stretches before you like the land you were always promised. So go ahead, my love, walk back out into the light.

After Life

Lutz, Salchow, Axel.

Thoughtless bruises, beaming scars,

all a part of the process.

“Everything you do past the point of exhaustion counts for twice as much,”

these days getting out of bed makes me dizzy.

Lexapro, Klonopin, Ativan.

These are the new gods.

We must move forward, I think

as I lie shivering in the back seat of my car.

If I say I’m okay, then I am okay

Don’t look back, panic,

Ignoring the paralysis will make it go away.

If I fill my mouth with supplications,

then the process must be working.