ashes to ashes

I thought the hardest part was the phone call

Saying I would never see your smile again.

Then there were sympathy hugs; false commiseration

From people who dismiss your life as sin.

 

My last memory of you, well, that simply isn’t fair.

No daughter, no friend should remember

cold-corpse fingers, stiff arms and straw-like hair.

I kept expecting you to move.

 

you were awfully loved.  The church was crowded.

warm bodies pushed together, jostling

spilling out into the bluesky summer afternoon.

Mourning what would be forgotten..

 

The hardest part was yet to come, though.

That took weeks.  Months.  Years.

Slow, insidious, cruel me – I kept living

Living without you, without tears.

 

I stopped expecting you to be there.

Stopped reaching for the phone.

Stopped each half-turn at a familiar gleam of hair

Stopped crying for the loss of you.

 

Ah, that’s the cruelest of all.  Acceptance.

Acceptance that you won’t return.

That I’ll never see that smirking glance.

That we’ll never again be back to “us”

 

 

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voiceless

I would write poetry and prose, words of love and comfort

if I thought that it would help

I would speak in volumes, verbs and tenses

dissecting, psychoanalyzing, explaining and extrapolating

the meanings of what

I feel for you

what I know to be true

in us

if I thought it would help

but nothing seems to help anymore, and I name myself Cassandra,

voiceless

no Helen here.

I see the ending of this Troy

(don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.)

I whisper and I speak and I cry, I try try try

but it seems I will remain

unheard

so fall silent and wait, precipice-balanced, trembling

for the end.

 

I’m starting to wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. Last Saturday, I volunteered to do this budget thingy for student group at my college. The other person who was supposed to be doing it stepped down, and they hadn’t really done any preliminary work on it at all. It’s due on Friday.

Now, I thought it would just be me drafting a budget and submitting the papers for approval. But apparently the budget presenter actually has to attend a budgetary workshop (which I think I missed the deadlines for by volunteering on Saturday), and apparently this budget is not submitted in a paper package, but is presented in a 15 minute presentation before the committee by a confirmed and trained leader of the group.

I do not fit any of this criteria. I can draft the budget and even create a ppt slide for the presentation, but I haven’t attended the workshops and I am not a leader of the club, I’m just a member. I don’t think I will even be allowed to present the budget. This is such abysmally poor planning and delegation on the part of the leaders (who are stepping down, which is why I’m trying to deal with this) that I don’t actually think it can be fixed.

I have a meeting with a former club leader today, but they texted last night and said they’re really busy and may be a no-show. So I’m not even sure if I’ll get these questions addressed. I’m kind of frustrated.

In addition, my LOL professors didn’t adjust my spring quarter credits from 16 down to 12, as we agreed so I could take an 8 credit class I really want (we’re only allowed 20 credits). So I had to drop the 16 credit class I was signed up for so I could sign up for the 8 credit class. I talked to my professors on Monday and asked them to fix this, and I sent them an email. Because they have not responded to the majority of emails sent over the past two quarters, I’ve gotten in the habit of requesting return or read receipts when I send them an email, just so I know whether or not they’ve even received it.

At this point, I have not gotten a notification that they’ve received the email. I have not been added back to the class as a 12 credit student. I don’t like having things hanging over my head, and I don’t like to mess with student aid, so I dropped the stupid class and signed up for another 12 credit class.