You know that feeling you used to get as a kid the day after Christmas or your birthday? It's that feeling you would get after looking forward to something so long and then all of a sudden it's over in the blink of an eye. Yeah, I guess adults don't get that feeling after Christmas so much. One thing about growing up that I think we all hate is that every year special days start to feel a little less magical.
Anyway, this morning when I heard that Carrie Fisher (best known for her role as Princess Leia in Star Wars) had a heart attack, I thought, "Certainly she won't die. Certainly there won't be any more deaths of beloved public figures this year." I was wrong. My best pal Lauren called me just a few hours ago and told me the horrible news. Carrie was always a loud and proud warrior on the mental illness frontier, and even though I can't claim to be a big Star Wars fan, her role as Leia meant more to me growing up than I can say. What an empowering woman. She will be dearly missed.
Without further ado, a poem. No drugs were used prior to or in the making of this poem.
Arrested for possession. 12/12/16
Something still tugs at the doorknob
demanding release.
It was out of sight, out of mind.
It was distracted by impostor words,
but still it fights captivity
with no freedom in sight.
Words make great identity thieves.
Words make great drugs.
For a while, everything feels
like an escalated version
of normal
until suddenly everything is
worse than before.
That's the thing about drugs, though.
Some of them eat your soul,
and some of them cure cancer.
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