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episode 139 of Skin on Sundays
Mouths
Have you felt
the river exit your body
after a long storm?
Have you noticed
the mouth
where the water
drains away
touch you like
the mouth
of a dangerous lover.
These pieces of you
they don’t need to be
destroyed, by the way.
They can end
without having to die.
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This is my little sister Alison. She just had her heart ripped out suddenly and unexpectedly. It was an emotional slaughterhouse, and oh how the sadness weighs like a dying whale on the beach. Even if the exorcism of this love from her life was likely a good thing based on the cruel way she has been treated, a way that no one deserves to be treated regardless of anything, that does not make the feelings disappear nor the healing any faster or easier. I wrote this poem for her because I feel its truth in my blood, and it might make the process of moving on less burdensome to remember that each one of us takes our experiences individually, even ones that were shared. We are the owner of our histories, our thoughts, our memories. No matter what happens, what we take from each of our experiences is ours alone. It doesn’t matter what anyone else takes. It doesn’t matter how anyone else feels. Each soul is often altered over and over by love, and little sister, try not to worry about how he feels, how his soul has been altered. His life is not your concern anymore, and for good reason. What matters is what you take away. Some of the things are beautiful; some of them are ugly. This is the shape of love sometimes, and I hope you still think it’s worth it, because when it comes again, there will be a world of new experiences waiting to have you. I think Kevin Sampsell said it best: “Love is fluid, I think. It doesn’t follow timelines. Once it starts, it doesn’t end or anything. I mean, it might stop growing but maybe it just buries itself inside of you when a relationship ends. So, like, you can dig it up agin if you want to. All of those exes contributed in different ways to make me who I am now. Same with you.”
The emotional slaughterhouse is dark. Still, somehow, it leads to a sacred place, where sadness holds us first, but then finally, transforms us into someone new. Who that new person is, well that's up to you. Send your light and high energy to my little sister if you have some to spare today. Hopefully she will feel it coming in invisible waves.
