Bent Words

Bent Words

March 05, 2022

WHOOMP

It shook the house and rattled the dishes. The earth molested by the very thing it had supported for so long and now, it was just another casualty of the environment. It was already dead so I took comfort in that until I thought of the woodpeckers and squirrels whose home was now felled in our backyard. I watched as the men quickly gathered up branches and stumps and debris and chainsawed it all down to moveable pieces.

Eight more would come down.

And with each tree that crashed to the earth, I felt it all over again. The agony of reality. The dusk of a summer day I had slept completely away after taking half a bottle of anti-depressants and finally waking for a brief, foggy moment to the sound of the biggest tree we had hit the ground outside my bedroom window. I’m not proud of it. It’s not easy to say. It just is.

I can still feel the emptiness, the pain, the disbelief, the darkness of not knowing exactly what happened or how I got home. The sound of my daughter’s scream and the sight of our family portrait lying face down on the dresser. I tried to put it all together but I couldn’t see myself in the dark. I denied even being in the location he said I was found. I don’t remember that.

I remember the hate though. I feel it with these damn trees and I can tell he feels it, too. Crashing inside and crushing your breath. Too heavy to lift, too piercing to forget.

I’m better than I was but this brings me back and it needs to be called out and carefully considered. It needs to be scary and sad again. It needs to remind me of the fragility of our decisions. What made sense in my heart was not congruent with my station and I don’t hold an ounce of understanding from others. I know. But just me. And I’m trying really hard not to hate her, too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4pi1LxuDHc


Pack yourself a toothbrush dear
Pack yourself a favorite blouse
Take a withdrawal slip
Take all of your savings out
'Cause if we don't leave this town
We might never make it out
I was not born to drown
Baby come on

Forget what Father Brennan said
We were not born in sin
Leave a note on your bed
Let your mother know you're safe
And by the time she wakes
We'll have driven through the state
We'll have driven through the night
Baby come on

If the sun don't shine on me today
And if the subways flood and bridges break
Will you lay yourself down and dig your grave
Or will you rail against your dying day

And when we looked outside
Couldn't even see the sky
How do you pay the rent
Is it your parents
Or is hard work dear
Holding the atmosphere
I don't wanna live like that, yeah

If the sun don't shine on me today
If the subways flood and bridges break

Jesus Christ can't save me tonight
Put on your dress, yes wear something nice
Decide on me, yea decide on us
Oh, oh, oh, Illinois, Illinois

Pack yourself a toothbrush dear
Pack yourself a favorite blouse
Take a withdrawal slip
Take all of your savings out
'Cause if we don't leave this town
We might never make it out

Written at 7:04 p.m.