The moon Queen

They say, she left her heart open, in the rain…

Every Tuesday

She would pick her flowers

And write her songs

No one knows much about her

What she really thought

How she felt about things

They only remember her sadness and her tragedy

I like to think

I know what she felt,

Some nights

At 3am

I can hear her playing the piano

Its music fills the halls upstairs

Some nights

When the moon is full

And melancholy

You can see her window open

Her wide, deep, dark eyes

And her blue dress

Sometimes it’s white

But she’s only there for a minute

And then she’s gone

You might see her at the top of the stairs

Or entering someone’s room

Trying to find something she’s left behind

I’ve seen some of her paintings

Some of her sketches

And heard her songs

I think I know what it must have felt like

To be filled so full

And not know

How to express it

To feel so alone

Like an outsider

Maybe she’s still trying to work it out….

They say

You feel the fear

And the terror

If you see her face though

The pain of dying

The air turns cold

I don’t believe it

I think you see the emptiness inside of yourself

No one knows what really happened to her

Her letters

Still show up under my door

That’s when I find her paintings

Inside empty rooms

Sometimes they’re in the park

I’ve seen her walking

When the moon is full

And the fog is down,

I don’t know why she talks to me

Maybe it’s because we are both alone

Filled with things to say

And unsure of how to say them

Maybe it never goes away

Maybe it doesn’t ever let go,

Maybe we just keep on trying

Even after we’re gone….

I don’t know her name

I only call her the moon queen….

Bleeding Ink #1,233

(image source unknown)

“Please keep writing. I like your penmanship and your poetry. Your words are beautiful.” She said.

She lived on the other side of the world. A place I had only heard of from people who had heard from someone who had heard…

Out here, we want to feel strongly about things that we borrowed.

Religions.

We like what they give us. But – we don’t live in their houses…

We’ve never seen their shadows or their demons. We seperated ourselves from them with a body of water. And declared them our own.

She was a writer

She wrote about her questions and how she watched classmates disappear. Never knowing if they were alive. Growing up surrounded by fighting and being told they had to choose. Between fighting or an education.

She wrote about love

And growing

I felt so entirely separated from these things…

Time has a way of slowing us down

Graying hair

And speeding up…

Someone said the world would be better without a Jew

And someone else was crying because they read an article saying Maya Angelou died today…

I didn’t have the heart to tell them, she passed away in Twenty Fourteen…

I was standing outside a grocery store. When a girl wearing a Dupatta walked out. And a man turned and said “what the?? I don’t want to get blown up.”

A few days later , I was talking to an older man when he saw a couple walk by. A white girl and a black man. He erupted. “That’s unnatural. The animal kingdom doesn’t even mix species. It’s a sin. And disgusting.”

Time passes

But

It was just yesterday

Wasn’t it…

We borrow things.

We make them our own.

Without understanding the depth of what we’ve taken.

“Keep Writing please. I love your words.”

She was muslim.

sometimes I look for her and wonder where she went

How she is

If she, herself, continued writing…

If she kept her faith

And if I even kept mine…

27

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An empty room
a note on the table
Sylvia Plath,
And
Vizzini wrote about depression
about overcoming it
Only to commit suicide later…
Hemingway,shot himself …
Fitzgerald died from a heart attack
But depressed
Believing none of his work meant anything…

For writers
Depression seems to be a shadow
One that we can’t escape

That’s what I thought of …
Being the oldest sister
It shouldn’t have surprised me
Eric had always
Been very active
And from your first impression
He seemed to be fine
He’d gone to Africa after college
To work on journalism
And well drilling
Then moved to New York
I have three of his four books
Mostly poetry…
Some essays
A die hard romantic
And lover of children
And families
But he always had this
Shadow
I remember one night
He kicked back three drinks and some liquor got in his car
And disappeared for four days
Refusing to answer his phone
Or messages
I was about to call a close friend of his
To see if she’d heard anything from him
He never disappeared like this
It was more common of his
Brother
Disappearing
Smoking pot
Showing up once a decade
in Some random ER
But not Eric
Eric would be the one who stayed
With you in the ER

I finally received a text message
From him …
He just needed space
He’d said
“don’t worry I’m too vain to kill myself”
I couldn’t believe it
“That’s the ones who do …dumbass”
I answered angry
And then because I hate confrontation
I Tossed the phone in my top drawer
And waited
He didn’t say anything

He was the most personal person
You’d ever meet
Always wearing his heart on his sleeve
Unashamed
But there was a confusion
Even when he was younger
He wanted to connect to people
wanted to help them
But also loved his own space
Not isolating
So much
But keeping to himself
His only friends
Were women Mostly
He understood
Them
And fell for them
Over and over
And they fell for him
A photographer
With a heavy British accent
She knew him more than anyone
A screen writer who wrote him regularly
While she was away
And several others…
They all shared something

I remember he used to preach
When he was younger
And after our father died
He just stopped
He didn’t care a whole lot for religion
Or church
Everything was so charged
Everyone had an opinion
But he wasn’t like that
He just kept them to himself
Rather
He tried to understand people
And until they gave him a reason
An absolute reason not to
He gave them a chance

I was
Sitting in my window
Smoking
When I got the phone call
I knew …
And my heart sank
Into my chest

The night before his
27th birthday
Eric committed suicide
I went to his apartment
Sharon was there
The photographer
Reading old letters
He’d always typed out letters
And mailed them to everyone he knew
A reason wasn’t required
All he needed was to be thinking of you
And you’d get a letter …
She had 8 years worth …
So did several others ….
I realized
Then
That’s why he didn’t keep a journal
His journals were just fragments
But his letters were full…
He poured himself out
Hoping to help someone else

I looked outside
It was snowing …
In September
He would have loved that.

For writers
Depression seems to be a shadow
One that we can’t escape
It follows us through history
And we never see
I can’t begin to explain it
I can’t even write it
I’m just a writer
And the sister of
A writer…
Who knows it all too well.
We can carry our shadows
And cover them
We can project them
Or we can try
We can understand
Maybe we can write
Words
That haven’t been said before
And that’s difficult
Because everyone is saying
Something
But if we
Can make that connection
Boldly honest
Maybe it will help
Maybe …
Our shadows
Will make friends
With our demons
Maybe we will make it
Past 27.

Where did it all go wrong?

“You know that feeling you get
You feel you’re older than time
You ain’t exactly sure
If you’ve been away a while

Do you keep the receipts
For the friends that you buy
And ain’t it bittersweet
You were only just getting by

But I hope you know
That it won´t let go
It sticks around with you until the day you die
And i hope you know that it´s touch and go
I hope the tears don´t stain the world that waits outside
Where did it all go wrong?”
Great lyric by Noel Gallagher

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Watch the acoustic video for this below

I’ve had this song stuck in my head
For a couple days now
Depression is not new to me
So when a friend text me
Asking for advice on what to say
Regarding self harm
And suicide ….
To help a friend of theirs
I just ….
I suddenly related
Just be honest give them your heart
Let them know you care
Really care
People can see through fake
I’ve struggled with depression
I’ve struggled with suicide
And fear of just becoming
Another male in our family who commits the act
I’ve fought that
I know that darkness
So love
And understanding
And raw vulnerability
Is the answer
People don’t need fake
They need honest
And that is expensive
But still
Life throws us hope
There is hope
It’s not all dark
We are both
Light and dark
Good and bad
And you have to accept that some people
Talk a lot
And say very little
They take more than they give
They will hurt you
They will not be able to see your heart or feel it
Even when you place it
In their hands
you
Will be hurt
They will be reckless
But these people
Have their own story
And
Love
Is the answer
Compassion is the answer
Boundaries are the answers
It is still better to
Be you
And feel deeply
Love deeply
Rather than trade your depth
For shallow waters

Don’t become bitter
Don’t give up your story
Hang in there
I don’t have the answers
I only know
That we grow into ourselves
And you should never
Be ashamed of your story
And this song
It’s been on mind
So I thought I’d share it

Green eyes and a heart of gold

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” I just never thought I’d feel this alone.I feel like I’m shutting down
And I never shut down.”

She has these green eyes
That will just stop you
This contagious smile
And enthusiasm for life and the arts
We just clicked
And she’ll never let me forget
Calling her from the hospital
Completely high on pain meds at like 2am (I have no memory of this by the way)

I couldn’t help thinking…
How many of us
Are starving for affection
Relationship
I think,to feel completely isolated
And alone is a much greater pain
Than anything
I know that pain
It almost killed me …

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“Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat.”

“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
– Mother Teresa

So we talked
We were real with each other about things that have been going on in our lives these past years …

Really love the people around you
Just be real
Authentic
We have enough fake people
Running around trying to make it
Isn’t about time we started touching
The soul ?
Rearranging the heart?
Rather than just touching the eyes…
This is about people
This is life
Walking beside them
Loving them
Learning them
And just being there
Being there when they need us
Letting them know it’s ok ….
Because
It’s ok.
What we are feeling
What we are going through
All of it.
It’s ok.

And trying to be strong
Isn’t going to help us make it
We are strong already
Depth comes from vulnerability
My friends
they are all women
And they are all fiercely independent
And I love it
strong and admirable
It’s one of the reasons I write so much about them …

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But one thing we all have in common?
Darkness,it’s the loneliness
The emptiness
And so we look out for each other
They feel when I need them
And likewise

Just be real
Your feelings are ok
Your heartache is ok
The
Uncertainty
The feeling of change
The desire to meet
the future with bright
Rather than blood shot eyes
All of it
Is real
And it’s ok
You’re doing better than you know
This
This right now is our lives
And none of us know what the hell we are doing
And that’s ok
Just remember
You are never alone

Make it rain

She looked at me
And said
“You’re different”
What? I’m taller
“No,you’ve changed”
I grew up
Everyone goes through things
That makes it hard to go back to the way we were
“I just want to shoot a gun”
I just want to pour my soul out and not worry about the mess I’ve made…
“What ?”
Hmmm? Oh it’s just a quote
I can’t remember who said it…
You want to see something really great ?
There’s a place at the top of the mountain
You can see every star
I mean every-one

” do you really feel that way?”
What way?
“About pouring out your soul?”
Oh…
Yeah
” ….”
“Then I have to go”
“I can’t stay”
I know…

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Listen,kid.

Your actions
They’re your own
Your belief
Your convictions
They are your own
Your emotions
Your heart
Your love
It is your own
Others
Opinion of these things
Do not define you
Your “no” is a full sentence
None of these things
Need justification
And this isn’t the best part
It gets better
You do not have power over another’s emotions
You don’t
That’s their responsibility
And they do not
Have power over you
So stop living through
Others
Stop trying to hold everyone together
Stop
It’s ok to have boundaries
It’s your life
That’s what you’re responsible for
Live it.

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Frayed

When I’m broken down
And I cannot mend
When my walls
They’re armed
So much more than armed
That’s when she walks in
Her hair on fire
Her eyes burning bright
We share the same
Darkness
We try for the light

I’m not warm
I have nothing to offer
I have nothing to give
I am
If anything
Frayed edges
Anxiety
And stars burning out
Dying

She takes my hands
And looks me in the eyes
” how are you?”

I’m fine

“Are you?”

No…
No I’m …..

And she warms me
This is what we have
We separate
But we pull each other
Back together
Again
And again
Until the end

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