Related Poem – Little Bird, What Are You Thinking?
I drew this girl the night I got home from the hospital, after my failed suicide attempt.
I was exhausted in every way.
I felt drained, my soul empty.
And this little girl came to sit with me.
In my big armchair in the living room, I drew and wrote and sang quietly to myself for hours.
It was effortless like no time passed at all.
I played music to surround my cells. Porch door wide open to cool the house.
When I was finished I laid in bed on top of the covers. The cool breeze a welcome relief.
I left the music turned up, surrounding my cells and filling the neighborhood.
I wasn’t through the worst of it all yet, but I had survived myself.
