Suicide

You're in the clouds.  No more pain.

You're in God's lap.  I keep calling your name.

You're the mid child, wild child, all-the-way-live child,

That 'girl is on fire' child.

The first time, glazed eyes and charcoal promises

Flowed like a babbling brook. 

I'll get better.  Wait and see.

You meant it then.

The second time, you grabbed my hand

After the bucket I fetched

Just before you wretched.

You meant it then.

The third time you splashed

Daddy's pills down with Seagram's.

The good stuff.  There were so many

Empty bottles.

You meant it then.

He never knew when he flew

Away a few weeks after you;

How shocked he probably was

When he saw you!

How we wept over you!

I got your stuff,

Went through your stuff,

Gave away your stuff

To Goodwill.

How I wish your ass would've

Came and asked me why I

Messing with your stuff.

You'd tell me I was I was

Crazy talking to myself,

But you didn't. 

You never came.

There's no one to blame

Because you were gone

Just the same

 Cia say your butt

Had not business doing that.

She's mad.  I am, too;

But I can't judge you.

That's Supreme Court stuff.

I didn't see,

Couldn't see,

Didnt' want to see.

Tried to believe.

 

But what better place

For you than Paradise?

It must be nice

Than you ain't hurting

No  more.

 

 

Copyright November 24, 2013 by Elle Chrystopher

All rights reserved.

 

 

*Girl on Fire by Alicia Keys

Chubby? Try FAT!

     OK.  I admit it.  I am now fat!  It took a long time to get this way, but believe me .. I don't like it one bit. 
     I know how rude folks are to those of us who are.  It doesn't matter the reason how one gets here.  Those of you that aren't have neither sympathy nor words of encouragement for me.  I have to dig deep again to move it and lose it.
     Twenty-four years ago you wouldn't have called me active.  I didn't know what the word meant!  I had given birth to my second child and, after beginning a new job and having to suffer snide comments about my post-baby silhouette, I took drastic measures and got rid of it in nine months. 
     Fast forward to 2013.  I had not only lost both my dad and sister within weeks of each other, I had developed PTSD.  I was -- still am -- on major psyche meds to get mentally in balance.  (If you'd ever been on this stuff, you'd know how much they both level you brain chemicals and simultaneously slow your energy down.  And did I say it also places major weigh on your ass?)  At 5'2 and 52 years of age, I weight 192 lbs.  The good news is my rings still fit, my nose haven't spread, and I'm still pretty! 
     My musculature is still evident, but Lord!  The belly, hips, and thighs are taking a beating!  Dang if I don't look like a middle aged woman!  Da-yum!
     I am still a free-spirit, still flirtatious, still a struggling, writing Libra.  However, how much more healthy I would be if I can get this health thing back in control.  I went to the nearby Urgent Care to take care of a pesky migraine when the nurse asked me if I had taken my blood pressure meds.
    "I don't take that" I replied stiffly.  I had always had disgustingly low pressure.
    "Oh" Nurse responded.  She didn't believe me.
     Da-yum!  Now I had to contend with high blood pressure! 
     I am pear-shaped.  I am not in danger of a stroke -- at least, not at the moment.  Both my parents had hypertension, but my mom had diabetes.  Fat's not helping a thing!
     So, I'm back, literally, to Square 1.  I do work out, but not consistently.  I am a martial artist.  However, I have to do more to look svelte in my gi.  My latest journey is getting back down to a manageable size.
     Lord have mercy!