The Grim Reaper visits me in the heat
of noontime, black cloak passing
sun’s rays into my eyes, blinds me.
I cannot see (why) the Reaper is here,
picking this time in bitter sunshine to
hoarsely whisper sweet nothings.
A bone-white face, cruel, he opens
his jagged mouth and screams, the sound
smashes windows, makes babies cry.
I recently got some bad news that a friend of mine from recovery suddenly passed away. He was only 32 years old. As these dark pandemic days drag on, I felt I needed to write this post to process my emotions.
I want to trace my family’s history,
go back + find out how we got here –
there was a suicide in the ‘70s, a wound
we carry but do not discuss –
secrets hide in the shadows
+ who knows how they affect us.
I began using self-affirmations a few years ago. I write them down on little index cards and keep them posted in my room as reminders. My thoughts tend to turn toward the negatives, and the self-affirmations help. One of my favorites, which has become a mantra, is, “You owe it to your future self.”