the poetry reading i was supposed to go to was canceled but denise duhamel (the poet) came to our class! it was really exciting. she read some of her poems and she answered some of our questions. next poem is due next week. not sure what i’ll do.
i have this new poem – at least part of it – in my notebook. about the weeks before the suicide attempt. i don’t know, it feels as if that were a major point in my life. not that i got better afterward. i was still hiding razors in my shoes and overdosing in hospitals after that. it just seemed to be the point where i felt i had no grand finale to make. no other thing to live up to. i had made The Suicide Attempt and i was free. i’ve only made one other since then and that was more out of desperation than anything. i didn’t even go through with it.
i keep thinking of that old tree my friends and i used to sit under. about that poem that shauna (not quite sure of the spelling of that) wrote, one of the first poems that ever moved me. before that poetry was dull and dry and meaningless. about the calm acceptance that i was going to die. what happened after doesn’t matter. i think that was a part of my life where i was too involved in dying to realize that it was all insane. that i was out of my mind.
graduation. who kills themselves just after a high school graduation? i know the answer to that.
Wait until you get an MFA in poetry, then you’ll have enough reason to finally do it!