A cousin, a brother, things happen in 3’s
Hoped death would come next for me
Instead my Pa went down that dark path
Wriggling and writhing in alcohol’s grasp
So I mourn again and again and again
Left still wishing for my silly own end
I know God is near, perhaps Goddess too
Laughing at this human who wants to be through
Asking to be taken from this nightmare of life
Wanting to be finished with all of the strife
They must have some grand plans for me
To keep me in hell instead of giving me leave
My heart and soul long for my sister dear
Cries out because she won’t let me near
She reads all my words wrong and so false
I don’t like text, I would much rather talk
Chest crushed by the weight of my grief
I no longer have her to help find relief
“Think on good things, believe in good luck”
Sunshiny people need to shut the hell up
They’ve no idea where I’ve been or am going
I’ve had loss of all kinds and the tears are flowing
Platitudes are not going to cut it this time
The best kind of healing comes from these rhymes
Here I am free to be depressingly me
No one judges, no one expects all glee
I can write and rant and know there is another
Who has felt this or seen it one way or the other
Compassion, yes. Understanding, check.
And reminded the world is in chaos yet
My own battles start to seem very small
‘Tho my pain is amplified by poets who stand tall
I see they are writing about much bigger issues
So in elegant ways, they provide me with tissues
Which help to stop my self destructive wins
Like pulling and picking and scarring my skin
So thank you all for being who you are
For writing poems that take me so far
Away from my existence mundane
To view life from a much higher plain
For carrying me along with your tales
Which help to finally silence my wails
The Winged Woman 