But Here I’m Alive: My Imaginary Place

I’m sitting on my bed
Writing thank you letters to clients
And holiday cards too.
All the while Ani sings in the background,
“The sky is grey,
The sand is grey,
And the ocean is grey.”
And I hear the chatter of people in my brain.
And I look at my technicolor
Tye dye backpack
The tye dye sheet on my door
And it all seems to dim
And Ani questions,
“What kind of paradise am I looking for?”

I need to find an imaginary escape,
I can go anywhere.
Anywhere but…
The moment right before death.
The place right after death.
It can be anywhere.
But there.

So I squint,
And the grey
It darkens,
So I open my eyes so wide
And color revives
And I am alive.
I am alive.

I rock myself
The music has stopped
But I move to the beat of my heart
And I sway back and forth
To stories I hear
The memories that haunt me
That cause me such fear

Since when do I rhyme?
This poem is weird
I’m writing my thoughts
As they have appeared.
I’m fighting to stay
I won’t live this way.
I won’t
This way.

I won’t die this way,
No matter how hard
Because I know people care –
In more ways than
Peace and a postcard.
They care with their words,
They fight here with me
They are on my side
They help me to see
The parts won’t defeat me,
They’ll help me to win
I just have to stop
And let them in.
I just have to stop
And let
Them in.

I have people on my side.
I am not alone.
Every week I see one,
Every week I am shone,
I am not alone
I am not alone
I am not alone.

And here in this month,
With the spirit of thanks
I am grateful for her
I am grateful for them
I am grateful for family
And friends and friends
I am grateful for music
I float to its sound
My safe imaginary space
I have now found

I float in the sky
With kaleidoscope eyes
My name is not Lucy
But here I’m alive.





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