I don’t want to forget
to check in on people,
the day after,
the week after,
6 years after.
Time has its way of healing us
but it doesn’t always look linear.
It’s not the same as erasing,
it is not a smooth ride,
an easy process.
There is turbulence.
Your stitches rip
and the wounds reopen;
sometimes we tear them out ourselves.
It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done
and you will still feel like
you should just get over it.
There are anniversaries every year,
we apply for a new job
knowing they’ll ask why we left the last one
so abruptly,
we sleep alone for the first time in years,
we flinch at the slightest touch,
the insurance doesn’t cover the new treatment,
we replace the flowers on gravestones,
nothing was saved in the fire,
there’s no baby coming home from the hospital with us,
we start failing our classes,
we have a harder time getting out of bed,
we start skipping meals again.
In times like these people too often give you space,
too much space
after they shave their head for you,
their hair grows back
and your phone doesn’t ring as often.
There’s too much space
after the 4th time you’ve gotten out of rehab,
the 3rd miscarriage,
the 2nd eviction notice,
or the month after you tried to kill yourself.
Maybe this isn’t the first time
you’ve mentioned divorce,
or slept in your car for a couple of weeks,
or moved far, far away.
Maybe you’ve been sick for a very long time.
Maybe they don’t take you seriously enough
or maybe they’re just giving you too much space
like after you’ve eaten all the casseroles
and replied to all the condolences
and the quiet sounds so loud.
You sign the papers,
they throw you a party
but no one thinks to call you
on Valentine’s day.
We forget to ask you if you need help
donating your dress.
We don’t even notice
when you go back to your old name.
People are flawed;
we forget,
we are selfish,
we get busy,
we don’t make time,
we don’t know what to say,
we don’t want to say the wrong thing,
so we don’t say anything at all.
We think skipping the subject
might bring you relief.
I’m sorry that you’re not alone
but you feel so lonely.
I’m sorry I forgot
it would have been your brother’s birthday.
You’ll never forget.
The least I could do is remember with you.
I’m sorry I didn’t check on you
after that argument with your girlfriend.
I knew it was a bad one but I figured you would reach out
if you needed anything,
but sometimes it’s hard to reach out
when you feel like all your bones are breaking.
I’m sorry that I let so much time grow
between my ‘how are you’s.
I’m sorry that when it was hard to be there for you,
I wasn’t.
I’m sorry for not calling you back,
for not calling you first.
I want my heart to set an alarm,
mark the calendar.
I don’t want you to feel lost
and forgotten
in all the space I’m giving you.
I want to be there through it all.
The earthquake,
the aftershock,
the relief efforts,
the rebuilding of your city,
I want to donate my time
and my love.
When we look at your history books
of the aftermath of the great quake of 2018
I want to be in every picture.
27 year old poet, special education para-educator, Netflix enthusiast, devoted daughter, sister and friend. You can always find me either singing Disney songs, laughing loudly or talking about hope.
Poet Douglas Kearney and composer/producer/drummer Val Jeanty link up for a a compelling LP that feels like the written word come to life. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2021