Play It Loud (VIII)

I play my music loud tonight.
I play my music long.
I play my music in the dark.
Sitting all alone.

Sometimes
I must be free.
Sometimes
I must escape.
If only for a little while.
If only for a moment.
If only for a few heartbeats
In the life I’ve been blessed with.

Sometimes
I play my music loud
So I can’t hear anything.
Only my music exists.

Sometimes
I play my music in the dark
So I can’t see
The world in which I live.

Sometimes
I play my music loud
To escape
From this world
I never made.

Sometimes
I wish there was a way
I could show you what I see
In this life
Every day.

Sometimes
I wish there was a way
For you to feel the things
I feel
Each day.

Sometimes
I wish you could know
The pain,
The hurt,
Of facing yet another day
In the grip
Of the depression
That runs my life.

It never goes away.
It’s always there.
I see it in the mirror.
Looking out a me
From my own eyes.

It touches everything.
Like a poison vine run wild.
Choking everything it touches.
Slowly.
Inexorably.
Relentlessly.
Every day.

I try to tell myself
It’s OK.
It’s like the story of Paul.
In the Bible.
Where he says God won’t take away
That thing that curses him.
That thorn in his side.

I wish you could understand.
There is no magic pill
I can take.
There is no medicine
That can take my depression away.
No surgery to perform.

All I can do
Is live with it.
Every day.
And manage it.
With the help of my doctors.
My weekly therapy.
And the medicine
I have to take.

To manage the darkness
That threatens to consume me
With every breath I take.

I play my music loud tonight.
As I sit
In the dark.
Alone.

For I know.
I just need some time.
To escape.
To be free.

From a world I never made.

Before I try once more.
To walk
In the land of gray.

Memories : Sangai

Sangai and Kaosu were adopted brothers.
We got them on the same day
From the SPCA.
They even got neutered
On the same day.
At the same Vets office.
They grew from kittens
Into cats.
With each other.
And with us.

Sangai was almost orange.
With really soft hair.
And he was a whopper
Of a cat
At 14 pounds.
But he was skinny
As a rail.
A flyweight for his size.

And the funniest thing of all
Was to hear him talk.
The boy was a soprano.
With the highest pitched meow
I’ve ever hear.

Sangai and Kaosu
Slept with us.
Almost every night.
She complained always
About the little slice of bed
She wound up with,
Between me
And the boys.

But she never seemed to mind.

Life was good.
Like it was supposed to be.
Until one day…

… Sangai stopped eating.

We tried to feed him
All his favorite foods.
Even tuna
From a can.

He wouldn’t eat a thing.

She took our sick kitty
To the Vets office
Where we always go.
And they tried
Everything they knew.

Special food.
Medicine.
Fluids injected over night.
All kinds of things
Were tried.

To no avail.

Sangai wouldn’t eat.

They told us to take him
To a veterinary hospital.
They recommended one.
And that’s just what we did.
They recommended surgery.
There was a chance
It wouldn’t work.
But also a chance
It would.

He was one of the family.
And neither of us cared
At all
How much it cost.
We had to try
To help our boy.

He went through surgery.
And a few days later
He came home.
For the weekend.
He spent that Friday night,
Saturday,
And Sunday with us.

On that Monday,
I called in to work.
And took our boy
Back to the hospital.

They took him in.
To check him out.
And I went home.
To wait.

Before I got home,
She called me.
Back to the hospital.
It was time.

The surgery had failed.
They could keep Sangai alive
For a while.
On a respirator.
But that wouldn’t have been right.

When I got
To the hospital.
She and I stood there.
We said good-bye to Sangai.
And we watched
As he fell asleep
One last time.

They tell me
He was just a pet.
Just a cat.
That’s all.

Sometimes people are just stupid.
Or so it seems to me.
Ruthless.
And cold-hearted.
And not at all
The way they ought to be.

He was our Sangai.
Our friend.
And our companion.
And suddenly.
He was just gone.

But I know something
Other people never seem to learn.
Because of how they are.
With their approach of
Kill the pain.
And forget everything.

I remember Sangai.
Watching him climb
On the stair rails in the house.
Rescuing him from the top
Of the ladder more than once.
Where he’d climbed up.
And then gotten stuck.

He use to love
Sliced turkey meat
From the Wal-Mart deli.

And the thing I know.
He’s still there.
In my heart.
In my soul.
And every time
I remember
Watching him.

I just can’t help but smile.

‘Cause my memories
Of our Sangai cat
Are a part of me.

And that’s how
Things are meant
To be.