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Catelyn Meeker Poem
The break comes slow; a funeral’s pace for the brain’s unraveling.
You stop swallowing the pills, and the shadows surround you again with their familiar comforts and unbreakable grip.
Death seems so beautiful; an epic climax to the moving picture that is your insufferable life.
Stop, go, drive. Tell them you have lost yourself again when you get there. They’ll ask you if you have a plan. I do. I did.
Sit down, dazed, and let a stranger take your vital signs. There they are on the beeping machine, screaming proof that you’re alive.
Lie down in a cold, dark room. The bed is like concrete, the silence would lull you to sleep if not for those voices and their cacophony.
Meet them, all the others who tried, like you, to abandon life. They don’t look at you like the others; they observe your pain and compare it to theirs.
Take the pills you’re given in a tiny plastic cup. Turn off the sound of your racing, unbalanced mind. Tell yourself you need the medicine.
Meet a forgotten, abused mother who sat in a running car in a locked garage. Meet the one who slit her wrists. Fall in love with them, laugh like you’ve never laughed before.
Leave them when you are declared sane again. Hugs, touching words. Remember the way you belonged with them in a way you’ll never belong with anyone else.
The world doesn’t provide a warm welcome. In fact, it tries to crush you all over again. So you fight against it this time; you give yourself another chance.
Open your eyes in the cold, clear light of morning peaking in through your own bedroom window. Stay sick, but stay well. Breathe, live, repeat.
Copyright © Catelyn Meeker | Year Posted 2019
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Catelyn Meeker Poem
The fly in the exhaust fan is dead. I see its tiny black corpse illuminated through the dull light.
It is moving ever so slightly. What is it moving toward?
Perhaps it is resurrected, and it is plotting its escape.
I am not dead like the fly, but I feel alike to a dead body while I lie on the floor of the tub and watch it make its move.
The sharpness of the razor blade catches my eye, and I want to possess it; I want to hold it in my hands without bleeding. I am not afraid of bleeding, though, and that is frightening, yet not frightening at all.
The world is as it was yesterday and will be so tomorrow and the day next, with or without me. I reflect on that fact and find life funny and yet so cruel.
The fly moves further, but I think it has been dead all along.
Copyright © Catelyn Meeker | Year Posted 2019
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Catelyn Meeker Poem
A single blade of grass. Does it make a sound when it is split down the middle?
Perhaps the sound you’d imagine the skin to make when it’s cut?
Air silently passing through the newly opened space. I’ve split myself too, and my bones shattered and crumbled into dust in that silent sound.
No man nor woman has ever known the true wreckage of my soul.
The way the air blows about the few and small sanities that still remain in my abused mind; they are restless.
I am small, yet not small minded.
If I had a care I could be great, but I adore the shadows too much.
A single blade of grass against my cheek, the smell of the cool dirt beneath my head.
It is this place I choose to inhabit, a tomb of my own. And when the wind blows the wisps of hair out of my face its whistling at long last turns the silence into sound.
Copyright © Catelyn Meeker | Year Posted 2019
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Catelyn Meeker Poem
You find me when I am weak, not tired; the rush of anxiety has overtaken me and made a fool of my strength.
You find me when I can’t sit still, moving helplessly from room to room looking for a fix; for you. I drink you and find myself again; I find calmness again, I find absentmindedness.
I thought we’d live here until we died, but everyone is dividing; everyone is leaving the place I thought was home.
I am alone, save for you, my friend. Give me a sip and save me from the worries of the day.
You are here to save me, here to relieve me of the pain I cannot purge from my heart.
Again and again I find you in the depths of my madness clinging to me like a child and opening my mouth so you can pour your amber liquid down my throat to assuage my grief.
I thought I had conquered you and your tempting ways, but I am too powerless to resist your call; your endless love.
I find you everywhere to mix my fear with polluted water that puts my mind at ease for a short time, just until I need you again.
Another drink, another empty bottle in the trash staring up at me, reminding me of my failure. I ignore it and twist the cap of another, pour you into me and let you invade my mind with your poison.
Everything is wonderful now, everyone is beautiful; there are so many features of my life I did not notice until I had your taste upon my lips.
I find I do not crave you so in the morning hours. I tell myself you’re not what I need until you abuse my mind with your perpetual badgering; your promise of the feeling you left me with the night before.
Drown me in my sorrows but allow me to see some light. I cannot reach the yellow sun when I’m swimming in your pool.
Copyright © Catelyn Meeker | Year Posted 2019
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Catelyn Meeker Poem
I always knew that you were unattainable, but you let me in so deep. I always knew that you were temporary and not a love I’d hope to keep.
I loved you wholly and without a second thought; I tried to bear the burden of the pain that your love brought.
I think about you often, even more when I’m alone. Your sins against me still cut me right down to the bone.
I don’t think I’ll ever love again, not after I surrendered you. I adored every part of our divine mess even though you never knew.
I hope you give her everything that you could never give to me. I hope she’s everything I wished that I could be.
In my dreams you are still mine, and I’m fighting for you to stay. I never know if my efforts succeed because when I awake you’ve gone, again,
away.
So farewell, my love, keep me fondly in your memory. I’ll keep you always and forever in my heartbroken reverie.
Copyright © Catelyn Meeker | Year Posted 2019
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