“There are as many nights as days, and the one is just as long as the other in the year’s course. Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word ‘happy’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.” – Carl Gustav Jung
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Winter is a time for healing.
Cold, gray mornings and a pallid moon hangs in the sky.
Bundled up to protect my heart.
My heart is a fireplace, radiating from the center of my chest.
My lover comes close, we warm ourselves.
Winter is a time for healing.
Birds migrate south, leaving us to think of what we’ve done and how we can make the world a better place.
We take inventory of our souls.
Nature retreats, but it’s only regenerating.
Without winter, there’s no spring or summer.
We snuggle into the season with our lovers, and I clasp my rosary as I pray to the God I want so desperately to believe in.
My lover chisels away rough edges
Around the center of my heart
But sharpness still remains
I cannot contain darkness sometimes
Lying on concrete in the cold dawn
There’s a man standing above me
I reach for the rosary he carries
He offers salvation in a kind way
Not like the charismatic preachers
I used to know in traveling days
He tells me, softly, that Jesus
Turns his back on no one, including
Pimps and hustlers with their
Scarred faces and crooked teeth
Depression is a liar
It tells me nasty things
These negative thoughts I acquire
And the despair it brings
But my friends always say
This too shall pass
Though it’s wretched today
I faintly see a half-full glass
When I feel disconnected
Not much seems to help
I’m not sure what I expected
Or when it will stop
Music is my healing balm
And so is my writing
They help me stay calm
With the negativity I’m fighting
There was a time in my life
When my mind was filled with strife
I was frantic and very lost
And my addictions came with a cost
I like to believe I somehow found God
And his grace shone through and healed me
But spiritual consolation doesn’t last
And faith can be lost to a degree
The journey of faith is a long one
In my depressions I become an atheist
My mind can be frantic and fragile
Manic episodes hit the heaviest
At the end of the rope, there’s hope
Is what the flame-eyed man said
On the edge of the homeless shelter bed
He’d seen it all, he explained, and each
Of us is a grain of sand in an expanding
Universe that’s interconnected
All a string in a vast spider web
It’s in our nature to rebel
And no cross can hold us down
In the empty church, the pastor screams
We all think it’s quite obscene
Then we tear the place down
Burn every last fucking piece to the ground
My mother told me Jesus would save me
And I thought of this as I put the needle
Deep in my skin and felt utter bliss
Who needs Jesus when you have
Drug heaven that turns into hell?
In the previous installment, we learn a bit more about The Monk and his background. He’s a legendary figure in the city and, despite his best attempts, he’s been struggling to get Louie and Tammy sober. Though he’s an odd character, people love him.
Let’s jump into Part 3, where we meet Tammy and learn of her struggles and the odds against her.
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“Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family: Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.” – Jane Howard
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During winters of discontent
It’s imperative to remember
That I’m not a malcontent
And all I must do is surrender
Surrender to the sky and the sea
And throw my body in the ocean
The water washes over me
The salty air is like a potion
There was a time in my life
When I was in a straight-jacket
And I left the hospital foaming at the mouth
And was met with intolerable colors
