My mouth a smashed blood filled cave Or I went into the kelp forest with my flashlight and kettle My knees also bloody I hit a curb tripped and fell on my way in to the dentist office Friday morning then I fell again (fainted) once I got home made it as far as my bedroom collapsed on the floor in front of my bed
Oh, forgive me darling Rebecca! I started reading this right after you posted it and then something happened, I don't know what and I did not come back because my mind was a fog, I guess, I don't know. Or maybe this was too much for me to ingest all at once.
Now I have read it all and twice and tears are hot, and I do not know how you can be so brave. So. Very. Brave.
Of course it has to be a time of deep grief. Aren't the worst dreams the ones where our teeth fall out?
I grieve for you. For you now and for that girl. I know that girl. I swear I do.
And over all, over everything, I marvel at the poetry you create.
I’m here. I wish I knew the right words to comfort you, to make the grief easier to bear, but I don’t, just know I’m here, holding you holding you holding you up, holding you close. Healing is happening. I wish it weren’t so very hard. If wishes were horses we’d fly.
Oh, forgive me darling Rebecca! I started reading this right after you posted it and then something happened, I don't know what and I did not come back because my mind was a fog, I guess, I don't know. Or maybe this was too much for me to ingest all at once.
Now I have read it all and twice and tears are hot, and I do not know how you can be so brave. So. Very. Brave.
Of course it has to be a time of deep grief. Aren't the worst dreams the ones where our teeth fall out?
I grieve for you. For you now and for that girl. I know that girl. I swear I do.
And over all, over everything, I marvel at the poetry you create.
Oh, Rebecca. I wish that I could come up there and take care of you. I wish more that you didn’t have to go through this.
I’m here. I wish I knew the right words to comfort you, to make the grief easier to bear, but I don’t, just know I’m here, holding you holding you holding you up, holding you close. Healing is happening. I wish it weren’t so very hard. If wishes were horses we’d fly.
You write with such eloquence about such despair. The ripping sorrow, the humour. Telling Baby Jaybus to Shut.It.
Hugs while you continue to heal. Like Elizabeth, wishing I could bring you a bowl of roasted squash soup or a bag of buttery rolls.
I’m so sorry you’re suffering. Swift healing, dear poet. Much love.
Xoxo
Barbara