Time flows by me,
My attention wavers.
An hour passing
A day passing
A week passing
They all feel the same.
I try to focus on the here and now
But my now is always slipping past me.
Yesterday
Last week
Last Month
They all happened at once.
The past blurs together
In my memories.
They asked for robots in the retail stores
And only realized their mistake,
When they asked for a discount.
For every missing button,
For every tear,
For every stain,
The robot brain calculated, to the cent,
The cost to replace, repair, or clean.
No longer could they bully an employee into giving them a larger discount.
No longer could they appeal to the manager for a larger discount.
No longer could they hide behind “The customer is always right.”
Too late they realized
You can’t threaten a robot’s job.
The company saved millions.
The customers saved nothing.
The former employees lost everything.
My memories are a labyrinth
Winding corridors
Secret doors
Dead ends and pitfalls
These are the first lines in a recent poem I wrote called My Memories. The poem is not very good. I shied away from what I really wanted to say.
My mind is a Labyrinth
Winding corridors
Dead ends and pitfalls
The monster is my memories.
Lately I find my mind twisting and turning back on itself. Linking memory to memory in a winding path that leads me back to my sister’s death. Even this post is another trip through the labyrinth with the same destination.
The path is well worn
Leading from room to room
Each one a tableau,
A story leading me deeper.
When she died, I spiraled into depression. The same kind of depression I feel now. Maybe that is why I keep returning to those memories. Maybe they resonate with the same emotional chord. I feel closer to her death than I have in years. I can’t claim to have completely healed from her death, I still have days that my memories reach for her only to find her gone, but the blow of remembering she is gone has lessened.
Deeper to the center
The center where the monster lives
The Monster I created from memories
The Memories I wished to forget.
I remember too much to tell in this space but mostly I remember sitting in the hallway of the hospital. Family had gathered in the hallway because this was the last time we would be able to see her, the last chance we had to say goodbye. It all happened so quick. Less than a day. I remember the end of the hallway was a big window. I remember wanting to throw myself through that window to escape from having to wait for her to die.
I can’t forget these memories
They loom over my mind
I wish I could forget them
But if I could I wouldn’t.
My sister’s death caused me much pain. I became more depressed than I had ever been before. I reached the breaking point where I sought out help from my local county health services. I was denied. I quit my job. I felt completely lost.
My memories are a Monster.
Not evil, Not malicious,
Just painful.
We make monsters of things we don’t want to see.
But then, things began to change. I found some new friends. I found a new job. I found acceptance from the people around me. My sister’s death didn’t directly lead me to any of these things but it was part of the journey. My life has not been smooth sailing since then. There are ups and downs. Her death was a major down in my life and while I wish it had never happened; I would never want to forget that it did.
I didn’t want to write this poem and mini-memoir. I needed to write this. I needed to work through these feelings and to not shy away from these memories. I’m not cured of my depression but I feel like I’ve found a new path through the labyrinth.
The wall behind the bathroom door is empty
It’s always been empty
You wouldn’t hang a painting there
You wouldn’t put up pictures there
So, why do I feel like the bare wall is wrong?
I don’t remember anything being there
I don’t know what should be there
Something is different about the wall
But nothing has changed.
In the kitchen, up near the ceiling,
where the cabinets meet in the corner
The cabinet doors face each other
No place to hang anything
No place to mount anything
So, why do I feel something is missing?
It doesn’t make sense to put anything there
It would block the cabinet doors
Something was in that corner
But nothing has ever been there.
Or maybe I have it backwards
Maybe nothing was there before
Maybe there is something there now…
Something I can’t see
Something I can’t touch
Something I can’t hear
But I know it’s there.
I feel it watching
I feel it waiting
I feel it wanting
No, no, surely not.
Just a trick of the mind
A random misfiring of a neuron,
I insist to myself.
Still, I can’t stop checking
Behind the door,
In the corner.
Checking for something not there.
My memories are a labyrinth
Winding corridors
Secret doors
Dead ends and pitfalls
My memories are a quilt
Cut apart pieces
Stitched together fragments
Painstakingly reassembled
My memories are a map
Charting my life
From place to place
From then to now
My memories are a book in progress
Half written chapters
In need of editing
With no ending.
When we expand out from earth,
When space, local space at least, is not the great unknown,
When the Moon is just next door and Mars is a long trip but not unreachable,
Will our ghosts go with us?
A cosmonaut died from a cracked faceplate.
Go on an EVA alone, turn off your radio
Say her name five times and listen
You will hear the air hissing out of the crack
Will there be phantom astronauts drifting in orbit?
Will we hear distress calls from ships long dead?
Will there be knocks in the night on the airlock door?
Will the ghosts haunt the ships they once flew on?
A man died in airlock two
Go into airlock two without a helmet
Close the door and wait
His ghost will open the door
They say you can hear voices of dead astronauts in the static.
They say cargo hold three is haunted by men killed when it decompressed.
They say sometimes you see rocket burns in the distance from ships not there.
They say space is a graveyard with no markers.
The lights are on
The table is set
But no one has shown up
There are no precursors
There are no forerunners
There are no ancient aliens
We were here first
We are the “wow” signal
We are the alien probe
We are the future ruins of an alien civilization
Someday there will be life out there
Someday they will look up
Someday they will hear our signals
Someday they will find our probes
Someday they will study Earth
Maybe if we work together
Maybe if we get off this rock
Maybe we will be there to say
“Hello.”
***
Author note: This was inspired by this NPR blog post that suggests that Earth may be the first place intelligent life has appeared in the universe.
***
This world is too straight and cis
For my gay and trans heart
This world is too dark and cruel
For my light and gentle heart
This world is too harsh and rocky
For the soft valleys of my heart
This world is too loud and angry
For my quiet and sad heart
This world is too much
For my heart
I said to my immortal wife, “Goodbye my love.”
To me, her immortal wife, she said, “Goodbye, my heart.”
“I’ll see you in fifty years.”
“I’ll see you in twenty.”
“Goodbye my world.” “Goodbye my light.”
Then she left in a ship to the stars.
What is fifty years to a pair of immortals?
We have forever to be together.
In forever, the stars in the sky will be replaced by new stars.
In forever, new worlds will blossom.
In forever, all things old will make way for the new.
Except us.
We will watch the seas dry up.
We will watch the sky rip open.
We will watch the earth die.
We will watch the sun swallow the earth.
To live forever is to say goodbye to everything we know.
To live forever is to see new worlds.
To live forever is to see the universe turn.
How long is forever?
Forever is long enough to be with her.
-end-
It wasn’t meant to be.
I scroll past my friend’s lives. Past their couple’s photos. Past their kids’ photos. Past the posts about their families. I am alone. I didn’t want to be alone. I tried to meet people. I tried dating sites. Even after I transitioned I couldn’t find anyone. In the end, it was easier to just give up.
You’re not missing out.
I still feel alone though. No matter how much I resign myself to a life alone I still feel lonely. I miss dates I never went on. I miss the night’s cuddling on the couch that never happened. I miss holding a hand I’ve never touched. I miss you.
Your life has different plans for you.
I’ve tried to re-channel my self. Into writing. Into learning. Into being. I don’t know where my life is headed. I’m becoming. I’m exploring. The world is still open to me.
—
Author note: I don’t know if I would call this poetry but it isn’t much of a story either. It’s my feelings and thoughts caught in words. My despair and my hope.