Lost / The Bottle

Excerpt from my book…I Heard You

Like I said…nobody gets out of this life unscathed.

drug addiction

http://www.artnet.com/artists/hu-jundi/

 

Lost

“C’mon Dad, let’s go! I’m gonna be late if you don’t get it in gear!” Kyle yells at his father.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Just one sip of this coffee and I’ll be ready.”

“There’s no time. I gotta be at the school at nine sharp. The coach will kick me off the team if I’m late by a minute.” Kyle says.

“Fine, fine. Let’s go then. Get your gear and go get in the car.”

“My gear is already in the car. I’ve just been waiting on you,” Kyle casts a scowl in his father’s direction and slams the door of the house on his way out.

Chris mumbles to himself, “jeez-us H Christ, that kid is always in a frigging hurry.”

He gulps down the last of his coffee, burning his tongue in the process.  “Goddamnit.”

He kicks off his slippers and bends to tie up his sneakers. He shrugs on his Red Sox hoodie and then pulls on his Patriots cap in order to cover his unruly hair. He snatches his car keys off the key holder beside the door. Within minutes they’re speeding down the road to the high school.

Kyle is still visibly upset. “Oh my gawd, Dad, you always do this. You frig and fart around each time there’s a game and we always have to rush around. I hate that! I can’t wait to get my license and my own car, then I won’t have to wait for you to drive me around!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I thought we had plenty of time.”

“You waited until the last minute again to even get going. I told you I had to be there by nine. Now we’ve only got ten minutes to get there! The bus is going to leave without me!”

“The bus isn’t going to leave without you, you’re the quarterback. Can’t have a game without the quarterback.”

Kyle crosses his arms and they ride the rest of the way to the school in silence.

Chris can feel his son’s anger hanging in the air between them.“C’mon, Kyle. Don’t be like that. A pissy attitude isn’t going to help you guys win this game. And you need this win, right?”

Kyle looks at his father and breaks his stony silence. “You know we do. We have to win in order to get to the playoffs.”

“You know I wanted to come to this game didn’t you?”

“But you’re not, ” Kyle says.

“I can’t,” his father hangs his head.

“So you say,” Kyle turns his head away from his father.

Chris glances in his son’s direction. “I’ve got to be at the hospital.”

Kyle snaps his head in his father’s direction. “I don’t even know why you still bother. She put herself there. She’s the one who put herself in a coma. She didn’t think about anybody else but herself when she took that shit and decided it was a good idea to go for a drive. All she’s ever thought about is herself. She can rot away in that hospital bed for all I care!”

Chris lays his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Kyle, don’t. You know that’s not true. She loved you. Still loves you and you’ll see that when she wakes up.”

Kyle shrugs off his father’s hand. “Give it up Dad, the doctor’s said she’s not going to wake up. She fried her brains and the car crash scrambled them even more. She can’t even breathe without the machines. She’s not coming back! I lost my mother a long time ago.”

Kyle feels the tears start to well up again, but bats them away with his fist.

Chris knows there’s no trying to explain things to his son. He’s been trying and trying to make him understand for the past month, but his son can’t see beyond his own anger. And Chris doesn’t blame him. He’s angry as well. At himself, for not seeing how far gone Mary was. He blames himself for not being more insistent, for accepting her excuses, for believing in her when she told him she was going to get better. He loved her too damn much to believe otherwise.

They pull into the school and Chris parks behind the bus. Kyle bursts out of the car and then opens the back door to grab his gear. He slams the back door shut and ignores his father’s shout of, “good luck!”

Chris watches Kyle get on the bus, high-fiving his buddies as he passes by them. He sees Kyle laugh at something one of his teammates say and then watches as Kyle places himself in one of the high-backed bus seats.Chris waves even though Kyle refuses to look at him through the window.

Chris watches the school bus leave the driveway and head down the road.After the bus is long gone, Chris puts his car in gear and sighs. He begins his journey to the hospital where his wife lies in a coma. A coma that was induced by the car crash his wife was in while she was high.Chris feels dread and hope at the same time. Dread that his wife hasn’t come out of her coma and the decision he may have to make on whether or not to take her off life support. And hope that she has awakened and they can begin the process of healing.

But then dread fills him once again, because if she has awakened and survived this latest ordeal, he worries that her addiction will consume her yet again and he and Kyle will again suffer through the pain of seeing a loved one battle a drug addiction that they have no control over.Chris sighs again, there is no happy ending for him or his son.

Either way Mary is lost to them..

****

The Bottle

The distance grows
The time apart seems like death

Knowing that the space will spread
Until the gap becomes a black hole

Feeling as though the tunnel is too long
Too far
To reach you

Yelling out your name
An echo my only answer
Throwing out a lifeline
Filled only with love
And hope

Begging you to grab it
In order to save you from
Your lonely solitude of depression and despair

​But the bottle
Battles me each day
Taking you further and further into the blackness

I don’t know how long I can hold on
Without eventually following you into the abyss
In order to be with you
If it’s the only way to hold you

Advertisements

Why

From my book, I Heard You

why

Digital art by SakimiChan

 

She drinks her beer from a wine glass.

When asked, “why?”

She says, “why not?”

She wears her rattiest hoodie beneath her best leather jacket.

When asked, “why?”

She says, “why not?”

She pulls on muck-covered work boots over designer jeans.

When asked, “why?”

She says, “why not?”

She smokes her weed from an ivory pipe.

When asked, “why?”

She says, “why not?”

When asked does she ever wish her life was different.

She looks confused and says, “why?”

Why indeed.

Candle of Beauty

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

candle of beauty

Outer beauty is the flame

Mesmerizing, bright, glowing

Hypnotically drawing us in.

 

But it flickers and wavers

Disappearing like a whisper.

 

Inner beauty is the candle

That gives the flame life.

 

Providing it with strength

To deliver light and warmth

To those within its sphere.

 

To eventually melt

Into a glistening pool.

 

Only to be reshaped and molded.

Back to its original form,

To pass on the flame.

Elusive Success

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

elusive success

Feeling of failure
Constantly plague
Touching with tips
The glory desired
But never grasping
Seeing others move ahead
Efforts are doubled
Trying too hard
Rejection scorches
Discouraged
Confidence diminishes
Frustration overwhelms
Setbacks impede creativity
Unwilling to give up
Tenacious and obstinate
Perseverance and time
Luck and unshakable belief are allies
Success will be found
If faith in ourselves never falters.

Your Love

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

when i think of you

Artwork by Tatyana Ilieva 

You’re the medley of every slow song,

That sings to my soul.

 

You’re the breeze as it moves silently through the trees,

Whispering into my ears.

 

You’re the waves of the ocean as they crash over my body,

Leaving me tingling as they slide back to regain momentum.

 

You touch me on so many different levels.

Your presence soothes me.

Your arms calm me as they hold me close.

 

Knowing you are near, whether in the same room,

Or just outside the door,

Comforts and eases my mind.

 

Your smile of happiness, your eyes filled with love,

Tell me what I need to hear.

 

Your heart beating into my ear, as I lie against your chest,

Speaks to my own heart.

 

Burying my face into your pillow,

After you’ve left.

Your warmth still lingers,

Bringing a smile to my face.

 

If this day were to be my last

I’d be thankful that you had shared your love with me.

 

 

 

 

What Does She Know

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

what does she know

What does a young girl know?

More than she should.

 

How to keep from getting a fist in the face,

By going down on her knees.

 

How to avoid the biting sting of a slender tree limb,

By lying helplessly on her back and succumbing to force.

 

How to stop the lash of a black, leather belt,

By surrendering her body to what she knows is wrong.

 

What else is a young girl taught?

Things she should never be taught.

 

Not to trust,

Because trust leads to disappointment.

 

How to deceive,

Because her entire life is a lie.

 

How to present a smile to the world,

When inside she’s drowning in her own tears.

 

Not to believe what is shown in the mirror.

Because her eyes see a pretty, little girl.

But her mind sees a child, ugly and twisted.

 

What else does a young girl know?

Exactly what she needs to.

 

She learns to survive.

To hibernate in her own silent shell.

To build up invisible walls.

That even hurt cannot penetrate.

 

She learns to free her mind from her body.

To a place where they can co-exist,

Without falling to pieces.

 

This is what a young girl learns…

From her father.

 

 

 

madness

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

no love

we watched a movie together

in which his love was proven when

he joined her in her descent into madness

rather than abandon her

madness 2

I’m not certain that I could join you

if madness were your fate

but the madness of my love

would never allow me to desert you

when you needed me most

madness 1

I would stand with you as you go through

your private hell

despair

holding your body as tremble

lending my ears as you scream out your agony

drown in your eyes as your tears make a lake

 

follow in your footsteps as you wander

your path to nowhere

building walls

believe in your words that have no meaning

love you unconditionally because you are my heart

 

never giving up on finding you

beneath your temporary shell of insanity

 

I would help you break that shell

for you to see, once again

the light of love

hope

that even madness

cannot extinguish