In the evenings, I often fill the bathtub with hot water and dump in my “Chronic Fatigue and Pain” Epsom Salt. I set a timer for 30 minutes. Sometimes, I use this time to simply zone out and disassociate from myself. Other times, I practice box breathing until I get bored. Others, I place a sleeping mask over my eyes and try to imagine a positive memory or make up a new one that could take place in my future.
Tonight, I read one of my favorite books. The Universe of Us by Lang Leav. I fell in love with Lang Leav “upon first poem.” I was in the Poetry section of Barnes and Noble, looking for something new. I picked up something by Lang, opened to a random page, and felt an instant connection. It was as if she was inside my broken mind and broken soul at once, knowing exactly what I needed at that moment.
I had one choice. I rushed home. I logged onto my Amazon Prime account and ordered all 11 of her books. Her writing fulfills me spiritually and makes me feel understood like no other poet I’ve encountered. As a gift to you, my buddies, I’m going to share two poems that I particularly found comfort in tonight while tubbing: (I apologize ahead of time that I can not hold true to Lang’s beautiful formatting while in this blog forum. You’ll have to order her books yourself if you’d like to see her beautiful decision-making in that regard.)
Today
Today I am not in my skin. My body cannot contain me. I am spilling out and over, like a rogue wave on the shore. Today I can’t keep myself from feeling like I don’t have a friend in the world. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to pick myself up off the floor. My demons are lying in the wait, they are grinning in the shadows, their polished fangs glinting, knowing today, it will be an easy kill. But tomorrow, tomorrow could be different, and that is what keeps me going today.
Your Life
You’ve wandered off too far, you’ve forgotten who you are; you’ve let down the ones you love, you’ve given up too much.
You once made a deal with time, but it’s slipping by too fast; you can’t borrow from the future, to make up for the past.
You forsake all that you hold dear, for a dream that is not your own; you would rather live a lie — than live your life alone.
Me: What I’m saying (through someone else) is that I’m lonely and today sucked, but tomorrow could be better; and if not tomorrow, then the next day, or the next, or the next.
Goodnight friends,
Reggie
p.s. This blog post is dedicated to the first poet I ever met, Alaina Ferris. Thank you, Alaina, for teaching so much by always being honest with yourself, me, and all that you created. There are so many lessons I’m still learning from you.