I wanted to write you a think piece
A cogent reflection on an issue of Great social import-- What it’s like to be raised in the Culture of conspiracy Yet my brain is still a bit too scrambled To weave coherent sentences together Probably because phrases like “Deep state” and “high cabal” Were a regular part of my childhood diet Long before YouTube was even a thing But just as toxic voices coming Through the radio flooded my tender heart Sometime before my brain broke Beyond repair I wanted to write you a think piece But my brain can no longer think straight Not like anything about me was Built to be straight- Perhaps it’s that I am so damn tired My mind is exhausted The heart hurts like my heart has the virus And my soul can only muster the strength To plop down on my couch and cry The last four years wearied my soul On top of the forty years I’ve spent running from ghosts Slaying monsters, dancing with demons Or figuring out a way to live with them Most days it all feels the same I wanted to write you a think piece Something that might catch the attention of Rachel Maddow or NPR A queer daughter shares her lived experience Of surviving a conservative existence Q-Anon pings on our modern radar, yet A-thru-P were quite the torture too The father who exposed me had such a Questionable relationship with the truth, With consistency, with decency, and yes Even with the Mighty God he claimed to serve Yet when you’re a spirited little girl You believe in him And that his goodness will prevail Not his delusions I wanted to write you a think piece Full of big words to help you understand And yet I only have big feelings That still make an accomplished person Unsure of who she can really trust Uncertain of what is fantasy and what is real Unclear if the avoidant lovers who are a Staple in her life truly mean what they say About my love, my body, my light Or if they are just like him Afraid of my light Too afraid to let it work Her transformative powers My light works that magic for so many So why do I still feel so cold in my own bed? I wanted to write you a think piece About how the fire in my belly Led me to the Capitol to make sure That the King of my father’s own image Was indeed knocked off his throne I got to tell one of his disciples That he sounded like an abuser And that I could no longer communicate With such a person for whom the Truth Clearly means something so different Their vision of a great America is no America in which I want to live So how am I supposed to live with them? How can our demons ever possibly dance Together on the same floor? I wanted to write you a think piece Full of solutions for unity Based on my knowledge and life’s work Yet this puzzle is not one that Thinking will ever solve And our feelings may burn down Each other's houses I am curled up, crying on my couch With the young women that still Live inside Just wanting their father to love them As they are, as she is A very blue soul Who loves America and everything in it With a fiercely bleeding heart
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Dr. Jamie MarichCurator of the Dancing Mindfulness expressive arts blog: a celebration of mindfully-inspired, multi-modal creativity Archives
September 2022
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