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Letters
to Carrie
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Letters to Carrie Caroline
I'm alone again
Softness descends, muggy and gray
A swing, empty, pushed by the breeze.
I
sit by the window, sometimes,
Watch the ivy (you see, I think
I can see it growing if I am quiet enough)
Overtake the brick of the middle school
Across the street.
Oh,
Carrie, emotions seem so silly
At times, thumbprints staining
In sepia ink.
I
leave traces on everything
Makeup smudges, waterstains, lipstick
On Styrofoam cups.
The
disease is taking over, tugging
At the edges, I am safest in the car,
Heavy wheels grounding me, stabilizing.
I
wish I didn't know about nighttime,
When only the whiskey can help
Make nonsense of the achy, creaking house
Bone on bone, shushing the crickets
As they bounce noise like chaos
Echoing in the firefly zig-zag of light.
These
days feel so old, Carrie, so old
That I sometimes have to cross the street
Late at night and wearing only my bedclothes
(the neighbors swear I am insane) to push
the silenced, empty swing back and forth
against the cadences of moonlight.
The
emptiness, the ivy, the whiskey,
And god, all the stains I make,
They all make me think of you-
Quiet now- Caroline.
Jesus,
Carrie, I'm alone again.
-
Carrie-
I dreamed of you last night
Freckled in sun
Embracing me, laced with insanity,
Me.
Times are harder now,
Too much of everything, too few smiles.
Everything needs arranging,
The house disorganizes itself when I blink.
Henry
spends his time on the phone
Or holding me,
Sometimes as if underwater.
And
I ask, what to make of this Carrie?
How do I blur my favorite memories
without tears? How do I place my fondest
dreams at my feet
and walk away?
Where
are you, darling Caroline?
My slippers have holes in them,
I wear my same nightgown
Even during the day...
-
Caroline
It gets worse by the hour
Oozes out of me, soaks my nightgown,
Dirty, damp, stained.
I can't get warm because of the damp
The cold oozing out of me.
Carrie,
I used to love the fall
Apples, pumpkins, maple syrup & you.
Now it's just a warning, awareness
That everything sleeps, dies,
Becomes still and frozen
Slippered feet on a desolate playground.
I
used to watch children play,
Carrie, take photographs,
Breathe.
But I resent the children now,
Their ignorance, their dryness,
The pitch of their voices and wildness
Of their eyes.
I wait, all eyes and ears,
By the window until the last child leaves.
An opening car door, a kiss for mommy,
And all is finally quiet.
And
then I go push the swing
Back and forth, alone,
Back and forth,
Alone.
-
Carrie,
When I look at myself now,
sometimes I feel regret
for not realizing my mortality
earlier on
and trying to create more-
more beauty
more love
more art.
-
Dear
Caroline-
The weather is cooling again, as leaves
Shade themselves for fall.
School is starting again, children's laughter
Spills from the playground into my
Cup of tea, sipped in the chilled slate
Light before dawn. I stand at
The window, peeping out from behind
Linen curtains at the children,
The garbage man.
I wish I could leave my body on the curb,
Discardable. It could be crushed, compressed,
Negated. Wish
I could play games with the children,
Laugh with them, be human
In their eyes.
I
don't know what's left of life.
Maybe death will bring peace, I think.
Maybe rest will do me good.
No more doctors, no more tests,
No more false hopes, just quiet,
Silence, and death.
Because school is starting again
And the children tell ghost stories
About me,
Won't chase balls into my yard.
I am haunted, "insane" they whisper
At recess. I am
Pale as a ghost, diseased,
Unholy.
Carrie,
I was beautiful once,
Wasn't I?
*
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