Moments

Moments

September '94
Night draped in betrayal
Part of me died
My halo fell, wings drooped
Broken

In a silence and in a roar
Anger has moved me
Arms held over my head
I made so much noise
The earth shook
Knowing the sins against me
Breaking in empathy

My old room in the white house
The sun soaked alcove
Fisher Price record player
My Bangles album
The bunk bed
Yeah, the bunk bed
An instance
Clear like a windowpane
The top bunk
Purple
Bed pushed lengthwise against the wall
My head at the left end
Close to the door
Close to Mommy and Daddy's room
They never knew
They were never there

Eighth grade
Words upon slick, lined paper
Smooth, maroon notebook
Eyes gliding over the smeared lead
Taking it from me
Opening it
Making it known
A fortress
Collapsed

September 1994
Mad Dog, Boone's Farm, Wild Irish Rose
Too many Camel Lights
Sofa broke
We lay on the floor
Touched, never kissed
Ripped, never put back together
Broken
I'm still not fixed

Freshman year
I died
Again, sophomore year
Pills that time
Emergency room
Drenched in vomit
Did I finally throw up the black days?
Make the old room pure again?
Get rid of the purple?

Twelve years old
Pink walls
Brown purse
Dexatrim and water
Diet Coke leaking from bottle
Staining book bag
The bus
Jocelyn bitching
"Those things are bad for you!"
It didn't matter
Since when has it ever mattered?

Montreat, summer '95
I thought it was over
The black cloud again
A week of tears
Rages
Katherine M. all dressed up, saying, "You ARE pretty!"
Everything surreal, reflecting in the bathroom mirror
Marcus holding me, his shirt absorbing my tears
Saying, "You look beautiful tonight"
Black cloud reigned
I stared into a sea of regurgitated spaghetti

Seventeen years
What is happiness?
These are the things I enjoy:
My Marlboro Lights, a good book, word puzzles, my friends
But what does it add up to?
Is it enough to counteract these seventeen years?
The black cloud?
The purple?
All the walls that glare and mock me?
All the wasted days?
Can a good movie buy back my innocence?
My optimism?
My hope?
My life?

Days of too many smokes
Nights of straight scotch, homemade bongs, Cylert to keep me up
Sleeping was too hard
Stereo blasting the Beatles
"Happiness is a Warm Gun"
Razor blade slicing the skin of my forearm
Hearing the skin rip, a high
Stolen beer
Cold in my bathroom, hiding
Couldn't sleep, couldn't eat
Only thought getting rid of the pain
Drink, pills, or death
I didn't care
Were all my days really that bad?

All that over
No more violent storm, angry wind, stinging drops of acid rain
Acid rain tears
No more scorching, melting, boiling heat
No more bony, icy fingers on my skin
No more walls I can't break through, screams I can't voice, scars I can't show off
No more perfect prison to hold me within its loving bars
And choke me, smother me

Even with the freedom
Even with the hell gone
Is it enough?
To balance the scale?
Make it good
Instead of just not bad?
Now, December 4, 1995
Cold, nose running
Bright, blinding fluorescent lights
French class
Sarah saying "J'ai travaillé a MacDoh"
I've heard it all before
Cheeks numb
Tingling
Tired
Wanna go home
Not bad, not good
Just okay
And that's not good enough

School's always like this
A zero
A void
I am not happy
Between 7:30 am and 2:15 PM, Monday through Friday
But I'm not hating
Not lost in an overgrown jungle
Trapped in a tiny glass box
2:15 PM to 7:30 am
Am I happy?
Homework, Kelly, writing class, AS, TV, the ever-ringing phone
E-mail, the $1.50 theatre, pigging out with friends
Count Chocula, magazines in my mailbox, good movies on TV
Music, concerts, Flashback radio show
Dancing, singing in the shower, fries from Miami Subs
Uno with my folks, pictures of my nephew, talking to my bro in Texas
Adding it all up
The whole is greater than the sum of its parts
It's a lot more than a list of activities
Likes and dislikes

Smiling
Soaked in the late fall sun
Dead leaves crunching underfoot
My first Marlboro of the day between my lips
Air cool and fresh on my smooth skin
I laugh
Happy

That's what it's all about
The moment
Perfect
Like a photograph waiting to be taken
These moments are my sustenance
And I feel sustained