Winter, my bitter rind,
What cold, cold hell I lived through when you descended.
You bloomed like an oil spill in my waters, sucking my sweet Surfbirds into the mire. God, how they struggled to open their wings, but you slathered them with death and told me, this is my love.
With my own blood I painted these words onto a map of the world: “This is the day the LORD hath made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”
Do you command me to rejoice in darkness?
In my hour of need you abandoned me on the interchange, your hollow apathy shaking through my bones.
You baptized me in the absinthe of grief. You decimated my heart. I am drawn out on this brink, you monster.
I cry out. You do not come. You said those who seek will find. You are a liar.
The winter has taught me this: I would have crucified you myself----You who so arrogantly deigned to speak of love while preparing a cocktail of neglect and horror for your children.
You want me to beg like a dog, "Let me eat the crumbs that fall from the table."
I am not your dog. Go ahead and curse me for not bearing fruit, I am already withered. I am frozen and emaciated in the earth.
Thea, my beloved child,
Your delusions are normal for someone in your condition. Your disease is quite advanced.
I have brought winter upon you to numb you for the extraction I must perform.
I am emptying you, my child, so you can receive me. I am uprooting your attachments to all that is transitory; I am excavating your ego. It’s excruciating my child, I know, just a little longer now, shhhhh.
I carve a dwelling place within you. My mercy comes with a scalpel. When you have been utterly drained of yourself, I will pour myself into you and make you whole. Our joy will be unending, my child. Just a little longer, now…..hold on……almost empty.....