cleaning out the closet

I was going through my thumb drive that contained most of my documents from my last semester of college. That was the semester I took creative writing with professor Kerry Sherrin Wright. She is nerdy to the point that it's graceful, and has a quirkiness that compels you to stay in her presence as long as possible (for the hope that she might say something unfathomably profound, or she'd trip on the carpet-- sometimes both). She was the kind of professor that changes your life in the same way a tiny pebble dropped into a pond changes the water. In my creative writing folder in my old thumb drive, I found several gems that I enjoyed reading and reflecting on.

I'll share one of the poems now, although I'm rather annoyed that I can't get the formatting to stay as it was in the original version. There should be some spacing and line breaks that you will not get the full effect of in this version, but I can't find a way to fix that. If anyone has any idea, feel free to fill me in.

September 24, 2007

The Girl

"You're mediocre, you know that?"

He's still yelling- then it really begins.
like a vacant nest during winter's first snow, emptiness
stares at me from the eyes of the mirror.
too tired to lift his hand again- or perhaps convinced of a hopeless cause
I am free to go.

bedroom door opens
a flood-gate of tears.
the first rain for a flower
that long ago withered
I throw a small glass bottle across the room
against the wall- it shatters.

the familiar, safe body sinks down next to me,
closes the door- keeping the family secret safe
inside the closet with us.
my brother pulls me close and I rest
my head on his shoulder.
His t-shirt becomes wet against my face.
He doesn't mind.
He sits holding me- strong, still
Silent.

supporting the hopelessness that consumes me.
validity evaporating
like breath into a bitter night
my resentment is not echoed
in his hollow gaze.
this closet- a tomb
for significance.

in the aftermath I learned to seek his comfort
in the aftermath I realized that it would never be enough.