I hear so many layers of love all mixed up in frustration, worry, addiction - I keep fluctuating back and forth between being a parent, my youth, a medical care provider, a friend - all the ways they marinate in life. The complexity and nuance of relationships. Well done man.
Joseph's father didn't know how to express his sorrow. His generation was taught to be strong and silent. But he was in pain, too. The powerless, overwhelming feeling of losing his son to drugs. Of not understanding why or how it happened.
They told you
you weren’t welcome
unless you wore your guilt like a tie
and called it healing.
They made God
sound like another man
who'd leave when you didn't say yes
fast enough.
But I heard the shake
in your voice
when you still tried
to call it hope.
You, with your cracked voice
and calloused heart,
were already a goddamn miracle
for surviving love that conditional.
Joey—
you didn’t fail.
You didn’t ruin anything.
You just wanted
a place to sleep
where the smoke wasn’t suffocating,
where a silence didn’t mean
someone loading a gun with your name.
If I had known you then,
I wouldn’t have asked for God.
I would’ve asked if you ate.
I would’ve sat in the fucking circle
with you
and told you
you didn’t need to confess your scars
to be held.
So here’s my voice,
not a dial tone.
Here’s my "stay,"
not an ultimatum.
You are not hard to love.
You just kept trying
to be small enough
for people who only loved
what they could control.
But you—
you’re not small.
You’re tidal.
You’re too much for cages
and that is holy.
Been there. My father has a southern drawl that comes out, only when he's pissed though.
I think accents are always more pronounced when we're upset.
Thanks, friend.
Hope your dad didn't fuck you up too bad.
There’s lots of things to believe in. It’s just that god isn’t one of those things.
Agreed! God never did a damn thing for me.
God has always been too busy not saving others to save you. Too busy on the customer service line to a billion people.
Thanks, Tate.
I'm a heathen, a non-believer.
I hear so many layers of love all mixed up in frustration, worry, addiction - I keep fluctuating back and forth between being a parent, my youth, a medical care provider, a friend - all the ways they marinate in life. The complexity and nuance of relationships. Well done man.
Thank you, Victoria.
Joseph's father didn't know how to express his sorrow. His generation was taught to be strong and silent. But he was in pain, too. The powerless, overwhelming feeling of losing his son to drugs. Of not understanding why or how it happened.