...and the alone still beckons. Turgid like the tight pull of night and death calling like Sylvia and I am here wishing I could work up the disgust for her dying
copping out
like black girls don't have the courage to do that shit
everybody's sorrow is heavier than my own
do you have a suicide plan
she asks
what do you do
if you get close enough to the knife
and I have more tha a dozen sharp edges
in my kitchen
two pairs of scissors
and the courage to wait
and see
what happens if I should choose to go this way
and I am flirting with death
and how she no longer asks
how I am doing
and I conclude she does not care
or cannot carry me
and how heavy I can be
when I go crazy
in strange rooms
I pay too much rent for
and how I have become more at home
in hotel rooms
more at home in the stark clarity
of water streaming strong from the gold taps
of beds I pay way too much for
I feel like a prostitute
one night here
another there
and I can still smell you on my fingers
the bug you are bit
me
swollen like the child that will never grow from your body
or mine
how I love you
more than I will ever love my mother
who left me
with a ready excuse for all the shit I could ever do to my wrists
or you
to yours
you always loved life
more than I loved death
and surviving these nights is a game I play
with one breath
two breaths
three breaths
rest
but not too long
you have to keep breathing
have to keep writing
you don't want to find out
what might happen if there is no word
vomitting from these fists
gotta find new shit to say
don't matter who be listening
don't need nobody listening
to the sound of me trying not to die
inside these walls
looking out on this slush of a city
that was white
just minutes ago
where did all the time fly to
and this winter has begun uglier than the first time you left me
and how I am writing because I promised
a woman I never fucked
that I would not call you
would not press those seven/ten keys
so I dial this alphabet
spread my palm holy
across the keyboard
and make up things to say
ways to tell others all I am not prompted to say
to you
I love you most
when you are not looking
safer to cradle you then
claws buried under you unaware
love you better
when you are sleeping
when you are weeping you will always be mine
I know what you feel
when I am inconsolable
breaking all that holds the sorry tale that was/is us
shards raking the pelvis of what we cannot yet
give birth to
I wait for you
but I cannot tell this to you
huddled in Brooklyn
back bent and aching
I wait for you
wait for you
for you
and all the while I tell you
I am leaving...
Staceyann
Posted by staceyann at December 8, 2003 03:52 AMwow, i just wanted to say thank you for that, i've been awake all night,trying to carve myself out of the darkness and then i stumble across such a gorgeous expression, there must be so many of us who spend our nights trying not to die, so many nights swimming up through pain. i don't know you but i'm grateful you've made it through so many nights and can dig such poetry out of them.
Posted by: marion at December 8, 2003 12:05 PMi keep coming back here hoping to see more words from you - such a beautiful artist shouldn't have to try not to die. i am thinking of you, for all that might matter. thinking of all of us out there trying not to die.
Posted by: Leigh at December 9, 2003 03:49 AMFeeling lost in a world where only shadows seem to exist in my world
Holding you without really touching you
Drying your tears without you even knowing
or asking
Leaning forward so my shoulders are there whenever you are ready to lean
Loving you like you could not imagine
My shero there is a rock and it's not too hard to climb
If you have a fear of falling
look behind you and see how how many hands are reaching out ready to grab you protect you comfort you
You have inspired many and many a days I've entered your cyber for sweet release and your words have pulled me out from my depression so many times
You are worth more than you know
You have touched so many lives you would not believe how our source of strength comes from u
Your voices is our voice and we need that voice
So when your days are dreary and blue look through your guest book and see how much we really adore U
i, who knelt in traffic when the going got tough. i whose history of suicide in the family. and the knowing by degrees of separation of that 15 year old girl who slit her wrists. i havent opened sylvia in a month or so...suicide. when you really see it. sees you weaken sees the burning behind your eyes....and punches you in the gut until you vomit leaves you fucking gasping for breathe. do you understand, staceyann though i know nothing at all though i havent lived enough to try to die again...that i know that this world would cradle your heartbeat if you let it....VIVE!VIVE!VIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-bek
Don't let the raging waves crash you at the edge of the melting shore. We're reaching out for you, whispering prayers to the Goddess for you. The circle of pain is a place we visit and revisit, but it lasts as long as the next season comes. It shall be summer again, stacyann, it shall be.... Hang in there, if not for anything else, but for the love we have for you. We need you, strong and very much ALIVE!
Posted by: unoma at December 9, 2003 09:25 PMit will pass, girl. trust me, trust us, it will pass. and PUT DOWN THE SYLVIA PLATH, o.k.?!
Posted by: thea at December 11, 2003 05:17 AMah. the beautiful, yet painful contradiction. the eloquence of cowardness. the brilliance of our own internal dialogue that entertains us in the middle of the night. if we could say what we thought the way we think it in our 3:00 am reflections. the frustration of not being understood because the words we write or say will never truly convey the right nuances that can only be interpreted through a heart of pain. man, i wish i could paint.
Posted by: Dawn at December 11, 2003 05:54 AMJust wanted to say... you caused me to pick up a pen and start writing... and that saved my soul... and set my heart free... so thank you...
Posted by: Desiree at April 30, 2004 10:03 PMlet us know when u'll be in dc.
Posted by: Jaci at May 12, 2004 04:17 PM