farewell to a peaceful sunday

it started so well. a cool morning after a hot day in the valley. my love came to see me and we read the newspaper together on the balcony. like any couple on any sunday morning going back a hundred years. the prime minister of Japan had been assassinated. i went to prepare coffee and discovered one of the cats was missing. somehow the front door had been left open. my heart sank. we searched and searched. i called and whistled and called before falling into an emotional flatland. i went online to distract myself from the shock. one of my old friends whom i survived addiction with  – initials DC –  had been homeless on the streets for many months now. farewell to a peaceful sunday.   #katyamills

2012

leading a protest against 

emptiness i was

in need of SSRIs

held up by hairspray 

insides like jello

lookin sorry

played out

feelin neglected

relationships faded i

could not synch the

clocks i was checking

all the locks

i found my

own way out by god

that’s life 

#katyamills

remix 2012

polaroid

you

are the life you are the 

hard seasons the

recipe dating generations 

back

careless restless and reckless

the soft viable understanding

at the end of a great confusion

soon escapes you

owls in the night upset 

your blood pressure you

throw parties you create

and destroy

you drink endless glasses

of milk and bourbon you

call and no one answers 

you

raise high your fists you

splash around dark thoughts 

and then

and then one day

you give a damn you

really do you seek forgiveness

and the strength of 

conviction

you change but all they see

is a snapshot a 

polaroid

you upset the blood 

pressure you reek of hard seasons

recipes dating back to a great

confusion

all that is left of you

is your change

open your fists and let

your hands meet. look

up to the sky. may the soft

and viable understanding

save you

#katyamills

csus

california state university. sacramento. i got lost on the campus again, after dark. asked for directions no less than three times. i know why they call it eureka hall. the moment i found it i felt that way. the kids were packed in the classroom, florence gave me a big smile and i took my place on the panel. the three stories came before mine were nothing short of inspirational. i hoped my truth could keep the spirit alive. about halfway through my story i found the pulse. the faces began to light up. these are difficult memories to draw. i told them how i owed forgiveness to my dearly departed cat. around 2001 Raccoon turned on me and slashed me in the face with his claws. that’s when i knew what an asshole i had become, deep in the heart of addiction.

raspberry red

when we were kids a raspberry was a scrape you got running around rough. the kid with the biggest raspberry was honored for a warrior. i remember once when i was 8 i injured myself on purpose, jumped from a real high spot hoping i would break my leg. i ended up landing on my hands and sprained my wrist. i wanted a cast for kids to write their names on, and all i got was a sling and a bag of ice. i went on to hurt myself in decidedly dangerous ways in life. driving too fast in the rain, age 17, i hydroplaned and rolled my vw. i was known to put a cigarette out on my arm. i had a lot of one night stands with strangers. hooked up with randoms. addiction was my tried and true. i wanted to numb the shame that came of hiding and fighting my identity. that was my biggest secret. i was trying to protect myself. i ended up in jail and rehab after rehab until finally i had to face myself, take my medicine, and face the world. my lease on life was renewed.  today i have learned to let the feelings rise and fall. be true to yourself no matter what. today i like my raspberry red. i pack a peanut butter sandwich for my lunch with jam.