Sorrow has many aliases. She goes by the names grief, loneliness, depression, and many others. Yet her purpose is the same under each alias. She aims to get down deep into the bone and every crevice. She wills you to succumb to her every damaging word and thought. She sneaks up on the unsuspecting and watches upon them with unbiased onyx eyes, waiting to find the pivotal weak point. She is possessed with the desire to swallow us whole dow
One of Sorrow’s deadliest aliases is Depression. Depression is extremely stealthy. She slips in through the night; at your darkest of moments. She appears frail in physique and soft to the touch, but if you let her clamp her teeth to your soul she will hold on with a tenacious grip. When she first takes hold you barely notice she’s there. Perhaps you find yourself more apathetic, a little less aware. But when she really latches on, she will take all your fire and nourish herself on that which drives you. Her never-ending presence keeps you locked up within your own mind. Slowly, the life drips out of you until you find you have no more will left to carry yourself through life with any passion. Once she has achieved this she replaces all the passion of life with a cold numbness that will slowly spread from your heart into the veins and through your body. With her icy fingers running through you, you no longer remember what it is to feel alive. You live life in the coldness of the undead. Not alive or dead. Never full of emotion and never devoid of feeling. When Depression has truly taken you, everything ceases to have importance and all you can will yourself to do is sit in your stupor and think. The only strength you have left is to reflect on every detail of Depression; letting her lead your mind in detrimental circles. She has finally lulled you into a numb slumber.
Loneliness is just as deadly. She is a voluptuous seductress. She is not so stealthy. She is uncouth and ostentatious in her ways. She teases and always makes her actions speak louder than her words so that she has you obsessing over her every move. You can never stop thinking of her; she has you in her trance. Late at night when you are on the edge of consciousness, Loneliness hovers outside your window whispering sweet nothings that travel through the glass. Yet you cannot reach her, you long to touch her but your yearning will get you nowhere. Loneliness would never give up the game. She makes you beg for more. She slips from your waiting hands leaving only a ghost of herself to accompany you. Your thoughts will inevitably start to be consumed with the sweet scent of her, the way her lips form around sweet words and her every lust inducing movement. Oh, but she will only leave you starving for her affection and alone in every way. She will haunt you with every glimpse you may sneak of her. Slowly, the starvation will render you hopeless and incapacitated. It is only then when you have nothing left in you but obsession that she will come to stroke your cheek and lull you into a withered sleep.
Grief is just as nasty and vindictive. However he is much more brutish than the others. He makes a rough appearance and refuses to be ignored. He storms through your life like a tornado; uprooting everything in sight and twisting things beyond the point of recognition. He is able to crush your windpipes with one swoop of his iron fisted words. He can force the feeling that your world has been lost with death. He can convince you that you have nothing to live for with a swift jab to the nose. Grief will strike you until you fly into a rage that you cannot see past; a rage at the whole world for taking away something infinitely precious and beautiful. Whilst you thrash in your rage; Grief works on riddling you through with unrecoverable bullet holes through your chest to make a home in which he can live. Once he has made his home, he will stay there and beat the knowledge into your soul that the void your loved one once resided in, will one day consume you. Soon he will badger you into a fitful and desperate rest.
Sorrow is very dangerous if you let her be. She comes in many forms; some stealthy, others crude and loud. She can take over your life with the quickness of the night’s engulfment of the sky. If you let her have power over you she will take advantage and spill into every part of your mind, body, and soul. So be careful, be strong enough to ignore her rapacious ways. Make your will to be alive strong enough to fend off the tactics she will use to bring you down to an everlasting repose in which you drown within her.
Showing posts with label '10: Tierney Ragsdale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label '10: Tierney Ragsdale. Show all posts
Apr 13, 2010
My Uninitended - Tierney Ragsdale
I am Brian Finnigan. I am also a seventeen-year-old man who has been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for exactly one year now.
About two and a half years ago I went out to Dublin to watch the Saint Patrick’s Day festival with a few friends. That was where I saw her. Her name was Riley Simmons. She was the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen. She had large deep green and innocent eyes. Her dark curls cascaded down her back. But her physical beauty was nothing to the brilliant beauty that seemed to emanate from within her.
I was compelled to go see her, drawn by some magnetic force. So I went over to her introduced myself and proposed that she join my friends and me to a pub to celebrate. She surprised me by agreeing to come with me. We spoke exclusively to each other the whole night. She disregarding her friends and I mine. I was glued to her every action and word. Her eyes were so honest. I never felt as though she was not being herself or trying to hide things from me.
We talked about just about everything that night from our favorite fruit to we felt about our families. It was quite obvious in the way she spoke about them all that she loved her family dearly. When she spoke of her father though, it seemed like she was describing a god whom she had worshipped her whole life. It was obvious that he was her life and that they talked about everything together. There were no secrets.
When it was midnight it had been five hours that we’d been talking nonstop about our lives. Her curfew was twelve thirty so she had to leave. I had no desire whatsoever to be away from her and I suspect she felt the same way. So she invited me to sneak into her house. How could I possibly resist? When we got to her house I snuck into her window quietly while she went to say goodnight to her father.
While she was with her father I looked around her room. It reflected her brilliance well. It was dusky purple in color. There was a desk on one side of the room that looked to be hand crafted (I guessed that her father had made it for her). It was quite beautiful, with intricate Celtic design. There was a laptop and a small TV and many filled picture frames on top of the desk. Then on her wall were thousands of pictures, of her friends, her family, bands, movie tickets and all other sorts of memorabilia. On the opposite side of the desk was a twin bed in much the same design as the desk. The quilt that lay on her bed looked very soft and there was a beautiful lilac canopy above it. Altogether a very inviting bed. So I decided to go lie down on it and that was where she found me when she came into the room.
She stared at me a little while seeming to decide something. Then she came over and lay down in front of me. We did not need to speak now. All we did was listen to each other’s heartbeats. I did not feel much like sleep so I just lay watching her. I memorized her face with all its freckles and watched, as her breathing grew steadier as she fell asleep. Soon after that I feel asleep.
When I awoke the next morning the sun was bright and she had left, to where I had no clue. But I did not have to wait long she came through the door carrying two bowls of cheerios and some orange juice.
After I was finished she told me she had to go visit her aunt back in Dublin. We exchanged phone numbers and e-mail and I promised that I would call her later that day. I snuck out the window onto the lawn. It was there that I first met her father. He didn’t seem at all perturbed let alone surprised at my presence. He just came up to me shook my hand and told me to take care of her as well as myself. I was utterly bewildered. All I could think to do was start walking down the road. It turns out her house was only a mile or two down from my own. As I walked I figured that she must have told him I was spending the night. How odd. He must trust her judgments very much or he was standing outside the room with a rifle in hand.
From that day on we were inseparable. By the end of the firs t month I knew her inside and out. All of her little quirks that I loved, an d her habit of twirling her hair when she was anxious. I could even guess most of the time what was on her mind just by looking into those beautifully expressive eyes of hers.
As well as knowing her I became a part of the Simmons family. Her short and crazy mother with that same black curly hair. Her shy little brother Liam so cute and creative with his little pixie face. And then her father of course, whose expressive eyes mirrored his daughter’s perfectly, was every bit of the man Riley had described and more. He was tremendously patient, forgiving, pleasant, and optimistic. Nothing could go wrong in his eyes, and above all he was the greatest listener I had ever known. I could speak with him almost as freely as I had with Riley.
She became my world, Riley did. I loved and cherished every moment I was blessed to be with her. Even if we were just sitting in our sweatpants watching TV, every moment was special because she was special.
Riley was kind and creative liked her brother and father, but she was also stubborn and wild just like her mother. She was so full of life. The way here eyes sparkled and she was always moving. She was just so alive, so full of energy for such a small creature.
We had just celebrated our one-year anniversary in Dublin for Saint Patrick’s Day again, when her mother called with disturbing news. Riley’s father had collapsed while working on the house. He was fine her mother assured us; they were just running some tests. She told us not to worry so we stayed out and had a good time with all of our friends.
When we got back around nine thirty everything was quiet and somber which was strange because her mother was usually bustling about while Liam and her father played20some game or other. But tonight there were no games. We came into the kitchen to see her mother and father waiting there for us. We sat down and her father explained to us that he had terminal cancer and the doctors had given him just about three months to live.
I couldn’t feel. I was numb. Riley beside me was whit as a ghost and trembling from head to food, she got violently sick next to me. Her mother told me that I should bring her to her room. Mechanically I got to my feet. I don’t even know how I could be standing because I couldn’t feel my feet. Somehow I got Riley up to her bed and I lay there with her rubbing her back and wrapping her in quilts in an effort to stop the shivering.
I looked her in the eyes and they were dead. She star ed at me and asked if I would always be there and I said of course and held her tight against my chest. I don’t think either of us slept at all that night and neither of
us got up in the morning or did anything all day.
Finally the next morning my mother called wondering where I was. I was terrified to leave her like this. There was still no life in those beautiful eyes of hers. But my mother was quite persistent and demanded that I come home and go to school. That afternoon I went back to Riley’s house through the window to see that nothing had changed. There she lay in the same exact position I had left her in. When I came in though, her eyes flashed. And she jumped right out of bed. She came over to me and started screaming at me that I had promised to never leave her and that I had just betrayed her. I could hardly understand. I had only left the house for a couple of hours. I tried to calm her down, but that seemed to infuriate her and she screamed louder now. She yelled that I was a liar and a cheat. Then she stared screeching that I had to leave right now. Over and over again she told me to just leave her. I didn’t know what to do so I just stood there and let her yell at me until she fell to her knees and now instead of the screaming, she was sobbing I bent down and picked her up to put her back into bed but she refused to let me do so. So I just lay next to her. It took a very long time for her to settle down and after an hour or so she finally slept and I could put her back into bed.
While I watched her sleep I prayed that when she woke up that her eyes were alive again.
However, when she woke up her eyes still held no life. Never again did I see that brilliance again. It had burnt out and there was no way I could revive the fire.
The next month and a half was perhaps the most painful times I had to endure. Riley didn’t do anything but drink all day long and when I tried to take the drink away her eyes would flash again in that same way and she would start up again accusing me of breaking the promise that I would stay with her always. So I gave up trying to stop her ongoing oblivion. She had also begun going to Dublin to party almost every night. At this point I jus t couldn’t take it any longer. I couldn’t deal with the fact that Mr. Simmons, the only father I had ever known, was going to leave us forever, and it seemed as though Riley was already gone. So I picked up and left for a week. I just traveled through the countryside in my car going into a pub every once in a while to drown out the sorrow.
After a while I couldn’t stand it anymore, dead or alive, I couldn’t stand not being able to touch my Riley. So I went all the way back. When I reached the house I had to prepare myself for what I knew was sure to come. I climbed in the window to find Riley curled in a ball on the floor. When she looked up at me I did not see the flash that I had expected. Even more horrifying is that I saw those eyes I loved even more hollow than they were before. It chilled me right to the bone
What had I done?
She stood up walked over to me and touched my chest where my heart beat. She was whispering something but I couldn’t hear what. I leaned closer to her and what I heard sent me reeling.
“You can’t hurt me anymore. I’ve already lift for something better,” over and over again she said this. I did not know what she meant by it but it had chills running down my spine. After a half hour of this oddness she went over to her bed and stared off into oblivion. She was not Riley this body I saw sitting across from me.
The panic had me crazy. I ran down the hall to the room where Mr. Simmons lay. He looked at me with ancient eyes still a soft light left in them. He gestured for me to come and sit. He explained that while I was gone Riley had gone out and found someone his name was Brady and he was the only one she would see anymore. She had told everyone to keep me out. He told me they wanted to do as she wished hoping it would help her. So he told me I had to leave.
I moved without knowing it. It seemed like I was moving through a thick haze back to my car. When I got to my house I went into my room where I blacked out under the bed.
I can’t even remember what happened in the next two months. I saw Riley around town, the other dead half of my life moving around without me. Those are the only moments I remembered.
Then July 23 I got a call from the Simmons, I lunged at the phone desperate to hear Riley but it was Mrs. Simmons that had called me sobbing.
Mr. Simmons had died that morning. She told me he had always thought of me as a son and that it had caused him an extraordinary amount of pain to tell me to leave that one day. She told me she wanted me to come to the funeral and that if it wasn’t too much trouble she would like me to be one of the pallbearers. I agreed telling her that it would be my honor.
The funeral seemed to last five days. It didn’t feel right. The priest did not understand. He hadn’t known Mr. Simons. And there was Riley pale as could be and much gaunter with no emotion in those eyes that were identical to her father’s.
In the weeks that followed I could barely function. I felt that all life should stop. The most important things to me were lost forever. I went over to the Simmons’ house one day in August. It was as quiet as that night Riley and I had come back from Dublin that night. Mrs. Simmons came up and hugged me just like a mother would have. Liam came over to me as well, holding up a deck of cards. I knew what he wanted. To play like he had with his father. So I went into the living room and we sad for hours playing go fish and making card houses.
Riley had not come down and I refused to go up and see her. I didn’t want to hurt anymore and what was I going to do to help her? That was what Brady was for. Even though I knew that Brady was a drunk and uncaring fool. And Even though I knew she needed me now more than ever. I came every Saturday from then on, just for Liam and Mrs. Simmons not to help her.
It was September seventeenth, another Saturday; I called Mrs. Simmons to make sure I could come over. When I called Mrs. Simmons was sobbing even harder than the day she had called in July. I couldn’t understand a word of what she said, panicked I ran out of the house and all the way over to the Simmons’ house.
When I got there Mrs. Simmons was laying on the floor in the kitchen with Liam sitting next to her not knowing what to do. I don’t know how I knew it, but I was sure that everything centered on Riley. I finally understood what I had failed to on the phone with Mrs. Simmons. Riley was gone. She had killed herself unable to stand the numbness anymore.
It was my fault. I had left her. I had killed her. No matter what anyone says. I know this to be true. I let my pride get in the way of doing what was right for the one I loved. She betrayed me because I broke my only promise to her. How could I have ever blamed her for that?
I killed the one I loved more than anything in the universe because I let trivial things cloud my head and yet in the way of what I know is right.
Now I will never see those brilliant eyes as long as I live
About two and a half years ago I went out to Dublin to watch the Saint Patrick’s Day festival with a few friends. That was where I saw her. Her name was Riley Simmons. She was the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen. She had large deep green and innocent eyes. Her dark curls cascaded down her back. But her physical beauty was nothing to the brilliant beauty that seemed to emanate from within her.
I was compelled to go see her, drawn by some magnetic force. So I went over to her introduced myself and proposed that she join my friends and me to a pub to celebrate. She surprised me by agreeing to come with me. We spoke exclusively to each other the whole night. She disregarding her friends and I mine. I was glued to her every action and word. Her eyes were so honest. I never felt as though she was not being herself or trying to hide things from me.
We talked about just about everything that night from our favorite fruit to we felt about our families. It was quite obvious in the way she spoke about them all that she loved her family dearly. When she spoke of her father though, it seemed like she was describing a god whom she had worshipped her whole life. It was obvious that he was her life and that they talked about everything together. There were no secrets.
When it was midnight it had been five hours that we’d been talking nonstop about our lives. Her curfew was twelve thirty so she had to leave. I had no desire whatsoever to be away from her and I suspect she felt the same way. So she invited me to sneak into her house. How could I possibly resist? When we got to her house I snuck into her window quietly while she went to say goodnight to her father.
While she was with her father I looked around her room. It reflected her brilliance well. It was dusky purple in color. There was a desk on one side of the room that looked to be hand crafted (I guessed that her father had made it for her). It was quite beautiful, with intricate Celtic design. There was a laptop and a small TV and many filled picture frames on top of the desk. Then on her wall were thousands of pictures, of her friends, her family, bands, movie tickets and all other sorts of memorabilia. On the opposite side of the desk was a twin bed in much the same design as the desk. The quilt that lay on her bed looked very soft and there was a beautiful lilac canopy above it. Altogether a very inviting bed. So I decided to go lie down on it and that was where she found me when she came into the room.
She stared at me a little while seeming to decide something. Then she came over and lay down in front of me. We did not need to speak now. All we did was listen to each other’s heartbeats. I did not feel much like sleep so I just lay watching her. I memorized her face with all its freckles and watched, as her breathing grew steadier as she fell asleep. Soon after that I feel asleep.
When I awoke the next morning the sun was bright and she had left, to where I had no clue. But I did not have to wait long she came through the door carrying two bowls of cheerios and some orange juice.
After I was finished she told me she had to go visit her aunt back in Dublin. We exchanged phone numbers and e-mail and I promised that I would call her later that day. I snuck out the window onto the lawn. It was there that I first met her father. He didn’t seem at all perturbed let alone surprised at my presence. He just came up to me shook my hand and told me to take care of her as well as myself. I was utterly bewildered. All I could think to do was start walking down the road. It turns out her house was only a mile or two down from my own. As I walked I figured that she must have told him I was spending the night. How odd. He must trust her judgments very much or he was standing outside the room with a rifle in hand.
From that day on we were inseparable. By the end of the firs t month I knew her inside and out. All of her little quirks that I loved, an d her habit of twirling her hair when she was anxious. I could even guess most of the time what was on her mind just by looking into those beautifully expressive eyes of hers.
As well as knowing her I became a part of the Simmons family. Her short and crazy mother with that same black curly hair. Her shy little brother Liam so cute and creative with his little pixie face. And then her father of course, whose expressive eyes mirrored his daughter’s perfectly, was every bit of the man Riley had described and more. He was tremendously patient, forgiving, pleasant, and optimistic. Nothing could go wrong in his eyes, and above all he was the greatest listener I had ever known. I could speak with him almost as freely as I had with Riley.
She became my world, Riley did. I loved and cherished every moment I was blessed to be with her. Even if we were just sitting in our sweatpants watching TV, every moment was special because she was special.
Riley was kind and creative liked her brother and father, but she was also stubborn and wild just like her mother. She was so full of life. The way here eyes sparkled and she was always moving. She was just so alive, so full of energy for such a small creature.
We had just celebrated our one-year anniversary in Dublin for Saint Patrick’s Day again, when her mother called with disturbing news. Riley’s father had collapsed while working on the house. He was fine her mother assured us; they were just running some tests. She told us not to worry so we stayed out and had a good time with all of our friends.
When we got back around nine thirty everything was quiet and somber which was strange because her mother was usually bustling about while Liam and her father played20some game or other. But tonight there were no games. We came into the kitchen to see her mother and father waiting there for us. We sat down and her father explained to us that he had terminal cancer and the doctors had given him just about three months to live.
I couldn’t feel. I was numb. Riley beside me was whit as a ghost and trembling from head to food, she got violently sick next to me. Her mother told me that I should bring her to her room. Mechanically I got to my feet. I don’t even know how I could be standing because I couldn’t feel my feet. Somehow I got Riley up to her bed and I lay there with her rubbing her back and wrapping her in quilts in an effort to stop the shivering.
I looked her in the eyes and they were dead. She star ed at me and asked if I would always be there and I said of course and held her tight against my chest. I don’t think either of us slept at all that night and neither of
us got up in the morning or did anything all day.
Finally the next morning my mother called wondering where I was. I was terrified to leave her like this. There was still no life in those beautiful eyes of hers. But my mother was quite persistent and demanded that I come home and go to school. That afternoon I went back to Riley’s house through the window to see that nothing had changed. There she lay in the same exact position I had left her in. When I came in though, her eyes flashed. And she jumped right out of bed. She came over to me and started screaming at me that I had promised to never leave her and that I had just betrayed her. I could hardly understand. I had only left the house for a couple of hours. I tried to calm her down, but that seemed to infuriate her and she screamed louder now. She yelled that I was a liar and a cheat. Then she stared screeching that I had to leave right now. Over and over again she told me to just leave her. I didn’t know what to do so I just stood there and let her yell at me until she fell to her knees and now instead of the screaming, she was sobbing I bent down and picked her up to put her back into bed but she refused to let me do so. So I just lay next to her. It took a very long time for her to settle down and after an hour or so she finally slept and I could put her back into bed.
While I watched her sleep I prayed that when she woke up that her eyes were alive again.
However, when she woke up her eyes still held no life. Never again did I see that brilliance again. It had burnt out and there was no way I could revive the fire.
The next month and a half was perhaps the most painful times I had to endure. Riley didn’t do anything but drink all day long and when I tried to take the drink away her eyes would flash again in that same way and she would start up again accusing me of breaking the promise that I would stay with her always. So I gave up trying to stop her ongoing oblivion. She had also begun going to Dublin to party almost every night. At this point I jus t couldn’t take it any longer. I couldn’t deal with the fact that Mr. Simmons, the only father I had ever known, was going to leave us forever, and it seemed as though Riley was already gone. So I picked up and left for a week. I just traveled through the countryside in my car going into a pub every once in a while to drown out the sorrow.
After a while I couldn’t stand it anymore, dead or alive, I couldn’t stand not being able to touch my Riley. So I went all the way back. When I reached the house I had to prepare myself for what I knew was sure to come. I climbed in the window to find Riley curled in a ball on the floor. When she looked up at me I did not see the flash that I had expected. Even more horrifying is that I saw those eyes I loved even more hollow than they were before. It chilled me right to the bone
What had I done?
She stood up walked over to me and touched my chest where my heart beat. She was whispering something but I couldn’t hear what. I leaned closer to her and what I heard sent me reeling.
“You can’t hurt me anymore. I’ve already lift for something better,” over and over again she said this. I did not know what she meant by it but it had chills running down my spine. After a half hour of this oddness she went over to her bed and stared off into oblivion. She was not Riley this body I saw sitting across from me.
The panic had me crazy. I ran down the hall to the room where Mr. Simmons lay. He looked at me with ancient eyes still a soft light left in them. He gestured for me to come and sit. He explained that while I was gone Riley had gone out and found someone his name was Brady and he was the only one she would see anymore. She had told everyone to keep me out. He told me they wanted to do as she wished hoping it would help her. So he told me I had to leave.
I moved without knowing it. It seemed like I was moving through a thick haze back to my car. When I got to my house I went into my room where I blacked out under the bed.
I can’t even remember what happened in the next two months. I saw Riley around town, the other dead half of my life moving around without me. Those are the only moments I remembered.
Then July 23 I got a call from the Simmons, I lunged at the phone desperate to hear Riley but it was Mrs. Simmons that had called me sobbing.
Mr. Simmons had died that morning. She told me he had always thought of me as a son and that it had caused him an extraordinary amount of pain to tell me to leave that one day. She told me she wanted me to come to the funeral and that if it wasn’t too much trouble she would like me to be one of the pallbearers. I agreed telling her that it would be my honor.
The funeral seemed to last five days. It didn’t feel right. The priest did not understand. He hadn’t known Mr. Simons. And there was Riley pale as could be and much gaunter with no emotion in those eyes that were identical to her father’s.
In the weeks that followed I could barely function. I felt that all life should stop. The most important things to me were lost forever. I went over to the Simmons’ house one day in August. It was as quiet as that night Riley and I had come back from Dublin that night. Mrs. Simmons came up and hugged me just like a mother would have. Liam came over to me as well, holding up a deck of cards. I knew what he wanted. To play like he had with his father. So I went into the living room and we sad for hours playing go fish and making card houses.
Riley had not come down and I refused to go up and see her. I didn’t want to hurt anymore and what was I going to do to help her? That was what Brady was for. Even though I knew that Brady was a drunk and uncaring fool. And Even though I knew she needed me now more than ever. I came every Saturday from then on, just for Liam and Mrs. Simmons not to help her.
It was September seventeenth, another Saturday; I called Mrs. Simmons to make sure I could come over. When I called Mrs. Simmons was sobbing even harder than the day she had called in July. I couldn’t understand a word of what she said, panicked I ran out of the house and all the way over to the Simmons’ house.
When I got there Mrs. Simmons was laying on the floor in the kitchen with Liam sitting next to her not knowing what to do. I don’t know how I knew it, but I was sure that everything centered on Riley. I finally understood what I had failed to on the phone with Mrs. Simmons. Riley was gone. She had killed herself unable to stand the numbness anymore.
It was my fault. I had left her. I had killed her. No matter what anyone says. I know this to be true. I let my pride get in the way of doing what was right for the one I loved. She betrayed me because I broke my only promise to her. How could I have ever blamed her for that?
I killed the one I loved more than anything in the universe because I let trivial things cloud my head and yet in the way of what I know is right.
Now I will never see those brilliant eyes as long as I live
Clarity - Tierney Ragsdale
"What letter is this and what sound does it make Ben?" I asked.
It's a B and it makes a buh sound! Like basketball! You know I play basketball."
I laughed and asked if he was any good
“Yeah! I play with my brother and we have a game every Saturday. You know last game we won and I scored…”
As I listened to this little child tell his story I couldn’t help but marvel at the simple wonders that a child sees. I watched him describe each basket he made with such enthusiasm that I could not help but be just as excited as he was. He spoke with such electricity it was hard to not become infected with his childish mindset. I have found that with every year that I tutor children like Ben I appreciate more of what they see. Children are not clouded by reality, they live wholly in imagination; they see the world as it should be and so they live life with vibrancy we could all take lessons from. As we grow up we forget to just listen. If we took the time to hear how children speak in the simplest and purest of tones we could gain so much wisdom and clarity. Because although children live in imagination, it is that imagination that is the reality we should be trying to emulate.
I am extremely thankful to have been able to spend time with each and every one of the children I have tutored. They have taught me things I could learn from any other. Every child deserves someone who will listen, truly listen, to what they have to say. I hope that I was gave them that. It was such a precious gift they gave me. I would like to think I made a difference in their lives. I would like to think they gained as much from me as I from them. For I know that each of them has allowed me to go back in time and see my world in the way it was intended; the way before society molded it for me. They showed me clarity, and when my world becomes foggy once more I will think back on those cherubic faces and find their clarity once more.
(The name of the child has been changed for privacy's sake)
It's a B and it makes a buh sound! Like basketball! You know I play basketball."
I laughed and asked if he was any good
“Yeah! I play with my brother and we have a game every Saturday. You know last game we won and I scored…”
As I listened to this little child tell his story I couldn’t help but marvel at the simple wonders that a child sees. I watched him describe each basket he made with such enthusiasm that I could not help but be just as excited as he was. He spoke with such electricity it was hard to not become infected with his childish mindset. I have found that with every year that I tutor children like Ben I appreciate more of what they see. Children are not clouded by reality, they live wholly in imagination; they see the world as it should be and so they live life with vibrancy we could all take lessons from. As we grow up we forget to just listen. If we took the time to hear how children speak in the simplest and purest of tones we could gain so much wisdom and clarity. Because although children live in imagination, it is that imagination that is the reality we should be trying to emulate.
I am extremely thankful to have been able to spend time with each and every one of the children I have tutored. They have taught me things I could learn from any other. Every child deserves someone who will listen, truly listen, to what they have to say. I hope that I was gave them that. It was such a precious gift they gave me. I would like to think I made a difference in their lives. I would like to think they gained as much from me as I from them. For I know that each of them has allowed me to go back in time and see my world in the way it was intended; the way before society molded it for me. They showed me clarity, and when my world becomes foggy once more I will think back on those cherubic faces and find their clarity once more.
(The name of the child has been changed for privacy's sake)
The Garden - Tierney Ragsdale
I was stuck there, unbearably itchy inside my body and fidgeting in the church pew in between my father and my cousin. I could feel something raging inside me, trying to reach my awareness. But I lacked the ability to unlock its cage and let it have its way. While I was being suffocated by the void spreading through my mind, I saw the preacher standing at the pulpit trying to summarize a most iridescent spirit. I couldn’t hear the impersonal condolences and bible verses he spouted to the church crowd. He couldn’t describe her in anyway. His service was a lie, unable to help any of us who grieved for such a loss. His service gave no sense of relief, no reviving breath to those who had died a little along with her. Then he was done and “I Hope You Dance” started to preside over the babbling of the packed church, which gave much more hope than anything the speaker had tried to say.
Finally I was out of the church, I moved fast from one imprisonment to the other. Now, I was sitting beside my grandmother in the car, he as numb and unchanging as my mind was. But as I watched the rain drip past the windows, I figured out what was battling inside me. He was grief, but I couldn’t remember how to let him go, how to access him. He had flowed from me so freely just the day before.
The memories were so sharp. I remembered seeing her face in the pictures at the calling hours. Her eyes were staring back at me and there was her radiant smile, but I’ll never see her green eyes for another moment. I won’t hear her warm infectious laugh as long as I live. Can I remember her forever? Will those memories of summers at her comforting country house, be as clear twenty years from now? I had to get out of that funeral home. I thought I had escaped when I got outside in the lively heat, yet out came the principal of her school with a beautiful sign that her students had made for her. So many people loved her. Who could not? She was the most loving person I had ever known. What she loved above all was her family and her flower garden. She was always either doting on her daughters and husband or out tending to her flowers. So on that April day, instead of being imprisoned by the grieving in the funeral home, I spent the day with the trees and the flowers and all the extant wonders of nature that assured me that life was still present in my damaged world
But I could not stay away from the grievers forever. I had to go back to stand next to my mother and watch them pass by her body, which now was just an empty encasement, to say goodbye. I couldn’t face a goodbye; I couldn’t look upon the face that used to be filled with a mother’s love and all the vivacious color of a pink rose. How do you say goodbye forever?
I hadn’t the answers and my grandmother’s lost expression did not give me any. I found nothing that day that gave me answers. Not in the nebulous charcoal skies. Not in the constant sticky drizzle and the sleek grass. Not in the words of my family. Not in the lowering of the casket or the final words of the preacher man. Nothing.
It was not until we went back to her house that I found what I had been looking for; what I had already started finding outside the funeral home. As everyone went inside her home, I wandered over to her flower garden. Then I finally knew that her presence in my life would never cease. Her love would always live inside of me and everyone else that she loved. She will never truly be gone from this world as long as the people she loves are still living. I miss my Aunt Val everyday and I still love her. If her loss has taught me anything, it is to love without reservation and appreciate everything beautiful and dear to me in every moment. It only takes a moment for God to take earthbound angels back.
The memories were so sharp. I remembered seeing her face in the pictures at the calling hours. Her eyes were staring back at me and there was her radiant smile, but I’ll never see her green eyes for another moment. I won’t hear her warm infectious laugh as long as I live. Can I remember her forever? Will those memories of summers at her comforting country house, be as clear twenty years from now? I had to get out of that funeral home. I thought I had escaped when I got outside in the lively heat, yet out came the principal of her school with a beautiful sign that her students had made for her. So many people loved her. Who could not? She was the most loving person I had ever known. What she loved above all was her family and her flower garden. She was always either doting on her daughters and husband or out tending to her flowers. So on that April day, instead of being imprisoned by the grieving in the funeral home, I spent the day with the trees and the flowers and all the extant wonders of nature that assured me that life was still present in my damaged world
But I could not stay away from the grievers forever. I had to go back to stand next to my mother and watch them pass by her body, which now was just an empty encasement, to say goodbye. I couldn’t face a goodbye; I couldn’t look upon the face that used to be filled with a mother’s love and all the vivacious color of a pink rose. How do you say goodbye forever?
I hadn’t the answers and my grandmother’s lost expression did not give me any. I found nothing that day that gave me answers. Not in the nebulous charcoal skies. Not in the constant sticky drizzle and the sleek grass. Not in the words of my family. Not in the lowering of the casket or the final words of the preacher man. Nothing.
It was not until we went back to her house that I found what I had been looking for; what I had already started finding outside the funeral home. As everyone went inside her home, I wandered over to her flower garden. Then I finally knew that her presence in my life would never cease. Her love would always live inside of me and everyone else that she loved. She will never truly be gone from this world as long as the people she loves are still living. I miss my Aunt Val everyday and I still love her. If her loss has taught me anything, it is to love without reservation and appreciate everything beautiful and dear to me in every moment. It only takes a moment for God to take earthbound angels back.
No Apologies - Tierney Ragsdale
Look in the mirror and what do I see?
I see a face, eyes, a nose, lips, and cheeks.
Look in the mirror search deeper and what do I see?
I see the mind, the spirit, the soul.
I am not always sure,
sometimes the mirror is clear and I can see,
but
other times the mirror is fogged up
and I am not so easy to see.
However in those moments when the mirror is clear
I see the mind, the spirit, the soul;
The human being.
I see who I am and finally, I will make no apologies.
When I see who I am I can let the voice of insecurity whisper away to the wind and,
I can embrace my wild imperfections,
as the beauty that sets me apart and gives me my unique voice.
I am an oddball,
quoting Harry Potter with every opportunity
I am quiet; I am in my own world constructed of fantasies,
noticing nothing but what is important to me.
I am loud and hyper,
running around the Great Falls on vivacious summer nights,
I am passionate and outspoken,
singing songs of teenage rebellion with my friends.
I am creative;
I break all the rules and live outside your box.
I am faithful, a daughter of God.
I am a writer.
I am a slave to music.
I am a lover of the sun.
I love to be different, even though you may say I am crazy.
I am who I am and,
I
make
no
APOLOGIES.
Weapon of Mass Destruction - Tierney Ragsdale
So kill it.
Just kill it.
Drill it out of every crevice of the mind.
Kill the hope.
Kill the loves.
Kill the lies masquerading as something beautiful and caring.
Just kill it, destroy it all.
Be the weapon of mass destruction.
Kill it all away, deceased.
Don’t leave it up to me.
Given the choice I could never do it.
Given the choice I know what I would decide.
I am weak, unable to give up;
Too fragile to work for my own health.
So kill it.
Just kill it.
Would you do that for me?
I wonder if you even have the little love for me,
it would take to end it.
I am wrapped up;
Entangled in the sins I cannot end myself.
Slowly it will suffocate me.
The confusion of not knowing what you’re thinking.
The confusion wraps me in its invincible grip.
So kill it.
Kill it for me.
Make the truth be known.
I cannot do this on my own.
Please, just kill it,
because I would not know how.
I am fragile;
weak from the inability to deny you what you want.
Kill it.
Just kill it.
Be my weapon of mass destruction.
If only you loved me just that much.
Just kill it.
Drill it out of every crevice of the mind.
Kill the hope.
Kill the loves.
Kill the lies masquerading as something beautiful and caring.
Just kill it, destroy it all.
Be the weapon of mass destruction.
Kill it all away, deceased.
Don’t leave it up to me.
Given the choice I could never do it.
Given the choice I know what I would decide.
I am weak, unable to give up;
Too fragile to work for my own health.
So kill it.
Just kill it.
Would you do that for me?
I wonder if you even have the little love for me,
it would take to end it.
I am wrapped up;
Entangled in the sins I cannot end myself.
Slowly it will suffocate me.
The confusion of not knowing what you’re thinking.
The confusion wraps me in its invincible grip.
So kill it.
Kill it for me.
Make the truth be known.
I cannot do this on my own.
Please, just kill it,
because I would not know how.
I am fragile;
weak from the inability to deny you what you want.
Kill it.
Just kill it.
Be my weapon of mass destruction.
If only you loved me just that much.
The Bench - Tierney Ragsdale
On the bench once again. The couple returns to this forested spot, each day. Every so often the woman moves an inch. In this past month I’ve seen her move twelve. They no longer gaze into forever. They no longer grasp hands with the fire. Winter’s last death freeze is creeping from her icy fingers to the recesses of his heart. She moves her once love drenched eyes to look to any other passerby. Her knees face in every other direction while he still faces towards her.
Skip of the Beat - Tierney Ragsdale
You gave me one promise.
I was naïve enough to believe you when you told me you would never hurt me again. I believed any word that would come through those lips.
You told me she was just a friend.
Told me that my face was all you saw. You had no interest in her feelings, only mine. I thought I knew in my heart of hearts that what you spoke was true.
You told me I was the only one you loved. You gave me that one promise. And I kept that promise to warm my heart and keep the demons at bay.
Then in one second, one tick of the clock, one pause in the beat of our song,
the promise broke.
You left me for her.
I was naïve enough to believe you when you told me you would never hurt me again. I believed any word that would come through those lips.
You told me she was just a friend.
Told me that my face was all you saw. You had no interest in her feelings, only mine. I thought I knew in my heart of hearts that what you spoke was true.
You told me I was the only one you loved. You gave me that one promise. And I kept that promise to warm my heart and keep the demons at bay.
Then in one second, one tick of the clock, one pause in the beat of our song,
the promise broke.
You left me for her.
See Her - Tierney Ragsdale
Look in her mirror and watch.
The physical signs of self-inflicted pain blossoms again.
I can watch the girl in the mirror
She will always stare back, eyes wide shut,
Seeing all, watching but never understanding.
Can you see her?
Watch, look how she changes.
The waist band is looser than it was just five days before.
You can see where the rib cage and hips poke out, ragged, sharp lines against her skin.
She will line her eyes in black, hide behind the veil of black hair.
She will pierce the skin; alter the expression into a mask.
Can you see her?
Watch, look upon the changes.
It could have been obvious.
Or perhaps it was too understated.
I have watched the girl in the mirror. Can you see her?
The life has slowly died from behind her eyes.
The vacancy doesn’t show.
The mask of content is firmly in place to keep
The unwanted out and to bestow
No more of her pain on her beloveds.
I look at the girl in the mirror. Can you see her?
Watch, look as she is consumed from the inside.
He gnaws at her insides creating these bloody caves.
Watch as she works frivolously to repair the damage.
I look at the girl in the mirror. Can you see her?
Wait, watch for her closely, see her truths.
See the all too real reality of his destruction.
Watch the self inflicted seraph fall.
I look at the girl in the mirror.
All too familiar.
The physical signs of self-inflicted pain blossoms again.
I can watch the girl in the mirror
She will always stare back, eyes wide shut,
Seeing all, watching but never understanding.
Can you see her?
Watch, look how she changes.
The waist band is looser than it was just five days before.
You can see where the rib cage and hips poke out, ragged, sharp lines against her skin.
She will line her eyes in black, hide behind the veil of black hair.
She will pierce the skin; alter the expression into a mask.
Can you see her?
Watch, look upon the changes.
It could have been obvious.
Or perhaps it was too understated.
I have watched the girl in the mirror. Can you see her?
The life has slowly died from behind her eyes.
The vacancy doesn’t show.
The mask of content is firmly in place to keep
The unwanted out and to bestow
No more of her pain on her beloveds.
I look at the girl in the mirror. Can you see her?
Watch, look as she is consumed from the inside.
He gnaws at her insides creating these bloody caves.
Watch as she works frivolously to repair the damage.
I look at the girl in the mirror. Can you see her?
Wait, watch for her closely, see her truths.
See the all too real reality of his destruction.
Watch the self inflicted seraph fall.
I look at the girl in the mirror.
All too familiar.
Save Me - Tierney Ragsdale
Look me in the eyes
then tell me if you see forever.
Look me in the eyes
then tell me if you see an angel from your dreams.
•••
Save me.
I’m reaching.
I’m needing.
FOR ONCE
Don’t leave me,
I’ll come undone.
My fists are open,
take my hand.
BECAUSE I’M FALLING
I’ll beg.
I’ll plead.
Get down on my hands and knees.
Lift me up
cause I’m falling from the clouds
YOU’VE PUT ME IN
Cradle me,
I crave your lullabys.
ENCASE ME
Keep me warm, locked up inside.
I can’t live all the way up there.
It was freezing my lungs,
closing my arms,
removing my fingers,
icing over my lips.
Don’t leave me
UP THERE
Bring me back down to where you are
Close me back up in your heartbeat.
then tell me if you see forever.
Look me in the eyes
then tell me if you see an angel from your dreams.
•••
Save me.
I’m reaching.
I’m needing.
FOR ONCE
Don’t leave me,
I’ll come undone.
My fists are open,
take my hand.
BECAUSE I’M FALLING
I’ll beg.
I’ll plead.
Get down on my hands and knees.
Lift me up
cause I’m falling from the clouds
YOU’VE PUT ME IN
Cradle me,
I crave your lullabys.
ENCASE ME
Keep me warm, locked up inside.
I can’t live all the way up there.
It was freezing my lungs,
closing my arms,
removing my fingers,
icing over my lips.
Don’t leave me
UP THERE
Bring me back down to where you are
Close me back up in your heartbeat.
Open Hand - Tierney Ragsdale
I lay down my naked hand
On your beating chest,
And wonder:
What does your forever
Really mean?
Could I be your definition?
Will you let my cold fingers
Trace your heart as I please?
Or does your patience with
Me cease?
But I pray to be the forever
That we never thought
Was true.
And I wish for you to realize
That all I’ve truly wanted
Is you.
I want to let you know that,
All I’ve ever asked from Him,
Is to keep your heartbeat safe
To be my lullaby.
Someday you will see,
One day I’ll finally
Make you believe.
For now I’ll settle for momentary assurance.
But the moment will come
When you take the
Open hand at your
Beating chest.
On your beating chest,
And wonder:
What does your forever
Really mean?
Could I be your definition?
Will you let my cold fingers
Trace your heart as I please?
Or does your patience with
Me cease?
But I pray to be the forever
That we never thought
Was true.
And I wish for you to realize
That all I’ve truly wanted
Is you.
I want to let you know that,
All I’ve ever asked from Him,
Is to keep your heartbeat safe
To be my lullaby.
Someday you will see,
One day I’ll finally
Make you believe.
For now I’ll settle for momentary assurance.
But the moment will come
When you take the
Open hand at your
Beating chest.
One Impulse - Tierney Ragsdale
Forced to look at your face
I chose to look in your eyes
I found there my every regret.
I sold myself to you
For only the most empty of intimacies.
And I don’t want to run that reel of
Memories once more.
A dark night, twisted headlights
Beaming through the window,
A hand,
Your skin,
My flesh.
The memory reel flashes through my mind
Blinding any contentment
I achieve.
Blood runs rampant through my veings.
Veiled eyes and covered ears catch only
Inane details.
One swift movement, one impulse
And I’ve sold my soul.
Rushing thoughts of those memories
Never cease.
Daunting memories.
Thoughts of what could have been,
What should have been.
One impulse,
That’s all it took.
And I am sold to you.
No refunds.
And a body sold to the night
Is nothing worth living in.
Nothing any man would desire.
I reside alone in
The body I sold.
One impulse.
A reel of memories that have no pause button.
I’ve lived in the memories,
Walked the world
Cold and
Alone,
In this body I’ve sold.
I chose to look in your eyes
I found there my every regret.
I sold myself to you
For only the most empty of intimacies.
And I don’t want to run that reel of
Memories once more.
A dark night, twisted headlights
Beaming through the window,
A hand,
Your skin,
My flesh.
The memory reel flashes through my mind
Blinding any contentment
I achieve.
Blood runs rampant through my veings.
Veiled eyes and covered ears catch only
Inane details.
One swift movement, one impulse
And I’ve sold my soul.
Rushing thoughts of those memories
Never cease.
Daunting memories.
Thoughts of what could have been,
What should have been.
One impulse,
That’s all it took.
And I am sold to you.
No refunds.
And a body sold to the night
Is nothing worth living in.
Nothing any man would desire.
I reside alone in
The body I sold.
One impulse.
A reel of memories that have no pause button.
I’ve lived in the memories,
Walked the world
Cold and
Alone,
In this body I’ve sold.
No Title - Tierney Ragsdale
A perfect wing,
And a torn flame,
At your fingertips.
One part beauty, one part decay. Mix the two.
Or cut one off at the knees.
Point to whichever you need and fly from a translucent encasing.
And a torn flame,
At your fingertips.
One part beauty, one part decay. Mix the two.
Or cut one off at the knees.
Point to whichever you need and fly from a translucent encasing.
Lullaby - Tierney Ragsdale
Sleep little baby,
Beat peace.
Find comfort in his heartbeat.
Steady now,
Don’t fight the repose.
Lean against his heartbeat.
Fall back to sleep precious baby.
Believe in the simplicity.
Hear the love in his
HEARTBEAT.
Beat peace.
Find comfort in his heartbeat.
Steady now,
Don’t fight the repose.
Lean against his heartbeat.
Fall back to sleep precious baby.
Believe in the simplicity.
Hear the love in his
HEARTBEAT.
Hope It's Okay - Tierney Ragsdale
Today I would like not to feel
it is a scary thing to,
Feeling soft sharpened blows
of what,
Was said but not intended to
Bring about,
These feelings of
being lost in the sky—
But I don’t even want
to mention,
How I’m feeling
this moment.
I would just like to
lie on the floor,
And feel like I am
no longer
HUMAN,
That I can
push it all away,
Brush dirt from
the bedding,
And watch
all the tears flow away.
So I hope it is okay,
if I could just not feel today.
it is a scary thing to,
Feeling soft sharpened blows
of what,
Was said but not intended to
Bring about,
These feelings of
being lost in the sky—
But I don’t even want
to mention,
How I’m feeling
this moment.
I would just like to
lie on the floor,
And feel like I am
no longer
HUMAN,
That I can
push it all away,
Brush dirt from
the bedding,
And watch
all the tears flow away.
So I hope it is okay,
if I could just not feel today.
"Here Comes the Sun" - Tierney Ragsdale
As I lay here,
Tearing myself
Up and
Down,
I try futily
To find the light
But I’ve lost the switch.
I have crawled farther and farther
Into this damp, dark pit.
It has become almost comfortable,
This rough and dirty floor.
But I cannot find my light.
It is becoming harder and harder to see.
So I will make this one last attempt to find the switch.
I search through the nigh unreachable parts of my mind,
And I’ve found it.
Those lyrics,
The ones that lift the veil and show me,
The sun.
“Little darlin’ it’s been a long cold, lonely winter
Little darlin’t it’s been so long since it’s been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it’s alright”
-The Beatles
His voice is the one I can focus on completely.
Their melodies are the ones that raise me from the floor.
Their words are the one that show me the light of the sun.
Tearing myself
Up and
Down,
I try futily
To find the light
But I’ve lost the switch.
I have crawled farther and farther
Into this damp, dark pit.
It has become almost comfortable,
This rough and dirty floor.
But I cannot find my light.
It is becoming harder and harder to see.
So I will make this one last attempt to find the switch.
I search through the nigh unreachable parts of my mind,
And I’ve found it.
Those lyrics,
The ones that lift the veil and show me,
The sun.
“Little darlin’ it’s been a long cold, lonely winter
Little darlin’t it’s been so long since it’s been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it’s alright”
-The Beatles
His voice is the one I can focus on completely.
Their melodies are the ones that raise me from the floor.
Their words are the one that show me the light of the sun.
Fear - Tierney Ragsdale
I feel like weeping
my eyes are aching,
from damming up this flood.
I refuse to release,
it makes my body heavy,
and burdens my breaking bones.
It is never enough to
wish and want.
Wanting—
and not allowing.
Never asking,
and always needing
I cannot let it go.
I feel like weeping
my eyes are aching.
Forever dreaming,
only conceiving,
a world that is
far too true to be good.
Keeping myself at arm’s length,
from love's strength
Protecting
and destroying.
Can I let it go? Because—
I feel like weeping,
and my eyes are aching.
But it will never be enough
to wish and want;
It is never enough.
I am never enough.
my eyes are aching,
from damming up this flood.
I refuse to release,
it makes my body heavy,
and burdens my breaking bones.
It is never enough to
wish and want.
Wanting—
and not allowing.
Never asking,
and always needing
I cannot let it go.
I feel like weeping
my eyes are aching.
Forever dreaming,
only conceiving,
a world that is
far too true to be good.
Keeping myself at arm’s length,
from love's strength
Protecting
and destroying.
Can I let it go? Because—
I feel like weeping,
and my eyes are aching.
But it will never be enough
to wish and want;
It is never enough.
I am never enough.
Dreaming - Tierney Ragsdale
Some dreams go forever
Unrequited.
They cannot be avoided and they
take on vivid lives of their own
in imagination.
They run rampant and become
The core of the most unrelenting desires.
They turn into bittersweet impossibilities
That push and pull every conscious action.
They weigh your head down
Threatening to keep it hung forever.
Should we let unrequited dreams
keep us from living a life fully ended
Or do we just surrender?
Unrequited.
They cannot be avoided and they
take on vivid lives of their own
in imagination.
They run rampant and become
The core of the most unrelenting desires.
They turn into bittersweet impossibilities
That push and pull every conscious action.
They weigh your head down
Threatening to keep it hung forever.
Should we let unrequited dreams
keep us from living a life fully ended
Or do we just surrender?
Dream in Nightmares - Tierney Ragsdale
I feel like the freak from your dream.
Saying. Feeling. Wanting.
What you don’t need.
Taunting, creeping into the places you’ve never wanted to revisit.
I am the angel of your nightmare.
Demon Plague - Tierney Ragsdale
I can feel you shaking through my body;
a demon plague that will never leave.
Set me free of your bonds,
I’m begging.
Your demon eyes are full of malicious spite.
You beset your diseased extremities into my veins.
You set me shaking with each injection.
You are the master of deception.
Oh yes, I believed you to be pure of words,
put ultimate trust in your actions.
I thought I had fled you from my body
but here I lay broken on the floor,
giving way to the tremors.
You’re making me sick.
Your disease gets engorges,
and you have spread through my veins.
You live in every part of me,
making me ill.
I can try to cut you out,
but every attempt seems to bring you back even stronger.
a demon plague that will never leave.
Set me free of your bonds,
I’m begging.
Your demon eyes are full of malicious spite.
You beset your diseased extremities into my veins.
You set me shaking with each injection.
You are the master of deception.
Oh yes, I believed you to be pure of words,
put ultimate trust in your actions.
I thought I had fled you from my body
but here I lay broken on the floor,
giving way to the tremors.
You’re making me sick.
Your disease gets engorges,
and you have spread through my veins.
You live in every part of me,
making me ill.
I can try to cut you out,
but every attempt seems to bring you back even stronger.
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