shaaren pine

2015

this fall

those first falls

with you lying on the floor naked

the stench wafting through the house

throwing away our

shit- urine- vomit-stained couch

telling the police i couldn’t bail you out

[i was hopeful that they’d just arrest you

but

whiteness is as whiteness always has been

and they let you go]

from miles away

you walked home

past dinner and

past stories and

past bedtime and

passed out on our front steps

legs on the sidewalk

for hours

how many people were forced to step over you

—

at first it was so hard to believe

these seemingly isolated incidents

unconnected to the lives we were living

were capable of destroying us

turns out it wasn’t the big incidents

that killed us

it was your numb inability to fight for us

that did us in

2016

fast forward in slow motion

a year later

and i’ve wished you dead

more times than i can count

if only it was selfless 

(because you would have killed somebody)

but no

i preferred the idea of burying you

to burying us from sadness 

and frankly

it was easier

and

more likely in its outcome

than wishing you well

—

i miss the idea of you

but now

there is nothing

you have

that i want

—

in november she starts getting excited

she loves december

her birthday (9!)

and the possibility of snow

big, white, clumps that fall from the sky

alchemy

magic

the only white powder

she gets

is stuck to your nose

or in baggies

in your pockets

on the floor

in the car

and means we eat dried beans

for yet another month

on our own

we kick you out

too many computers thrown

too many comings home

at five

too many promises broken

she’s terrified that you’re going to try and get in

i promise her that she’s safe

90 days clean time

and you can come back

december treatment

instead of casseroles

like other wives with sick husbands

i receive pitying sideways glances

and barely hidden

looks of relief 

that they are not me

fair enough

i don’t want to be me

either

again

—

she thinks

that you are not safe

she does not want to see you

or hear your voice

and i will respect her boundary

i don’t tell you this

i want your rage directed at me

and not her

you think

i’m poisoning her against you

or keeping her from you

in this instance

you have proved yourself 

more than capable

of this

all on your own

—

yes, unfortunately it is selfish for now, you say.

selfish for now

you’re an addict

you’ve been selfish forever

—

fuck the pink cloud

why do they call it a cloud

it’s more like pink cement

that you’ve poured all over yourself

so that life can’t get to you

i get it

it must suck to be you

the weight of your handiwork

oppressive upon your shoulders

i imagine you will think of us

every sober day

for the rest of your life

even if it’s short

because who believes

you can stay sober

—

it’s funny that in your mind

your life is so different

to us it’s the same 

substances or not

it’s like the poor dead deer

killed for food or sport

it’s all the same to the deer

—

you tell her that none of it is her fault

she laughs

she was never confused

i have taught her well

she doubts you’ll get better

probably because

recovery isn’t

cards on a birthday and christmas

recovery is palpable

she says

no matter how much we talk about him

it’s like we’ve never had him

and he was never here

winter grief

i’ve stopped wearing

eye makeup

i am tired

of looking like a train wreck

with tears and black lines

streaming my face

i’ve stopped caring 

that people think I look tired

i am tired

i’ve started screaming

at the top of my lungs

in the car

at nobody

when i’m driving

alone

it feels safe

knowing that i can’t be heard

funny how not being heard

by you

doesn’t feel safe

i tell her i’m sorry

that i’m so blue

she says it’s okay

it’s okay to be sad

why are there no medals

for getting up every morning

for making the bed

for getting dressed

and out of my head

for keeping everybody

in clean clothes

with structure

and well-fed

i will not abide

the quiet voices

inside

but 

i want to hide

for decades

90 days

we’ve talked about addiction

for almost her entire life

she has a vocabulary

she knows that she can

trust

talk

feel

do you remember what he looks like

not really

just that he has tattoos

and green eyes

and is bald

how are you not sad all the time

i don’t know

i know it will come out later

in adolescence

or her twenties

or her thirties

or her forties

we are not out of the woods

my new year’s resolution

this year was to keep us safe

in this sense

i will fail

as we will be able to see 

your influence

in perpetuity

spring reckoning

you broke up with her

in a letter

i didn’t realize

it was possible

to dear jane a daughter

and yet

you asked her to 

stay in touch

and maybe

she’d visit you 

one day

i’m devastated for her

and myself

how could i have chosen

so poorly?

eventually

i will realize that this is the disease

days later she falls apart

it’s too much

—

we can’t live like this

i’ve started putting up

inspiration

on our walls

i can’t muster it myself

so i will outsource this task

and someday

we will believe

these words

march journey

i take her on our first vacation

by ourselves

and we wonder 

if there are two of us

and only one of you

why we

consider ourselves alone

there is very little about our trip

that is relaxing

or fun

we confront so many messes

that were left to fester

in our house

in our family

in our town

your shit is everywhere

signs of your dysfunction

that we ignored

to stay sane

but as she says

this vacation is hard

but we are brave

and now we know

we can do it

120 days

and just like clockwork

you relapse

one of your therapists

told me once 

that i know you better

than anyone

and he was right

separated by miles

i can still feel it coming

the patterns will forever

be burned in me

it’s hard to call it a relapse

since there is nothing about you

that has been better

or benign

or that says you’re any different

except you

i want to take my rings off

but they offer so much protection

safety

from others

from men

from my own damn mind

i’m embarrassed by how much

i don’t want to let them go

lemon

we’ve started calling you lemon

it feels wrong to say

daddy

or even your name

that person is long gone

it’s like you’re returning

to who you were supposed to be

before i met you

before she was born

without us

you are sour

10 years

it’s wedding and anniversary season

everybody is celebrating

days off

nights out

commemorations

gifts, flowers, jewelry

the only bracelets i get

for our ten years

are the stainless ones they put around your wrists

with a mugshot

856.011-3245 drunk and disorderly

843.02-3143 trespassing

810.09-2774 resisting arrest

this week has brought

another firing

and yet another month-long lie revealed

happy anniversary

i take off my rings

and i am emboldened to tackle

the downstairs closet

which is filled with your stuff

from our move

in overflowing

boxes

and tearing trash bags

i have attempted this feat previously

many times

only to open the door

and close it

immediately

it’s too much

but this time

i’m ready

she is furious

that i would do this

i thought

wrongly

that it was because i might get rid

of your stuff

but no

we do not clean up other people’s messes, amma

who else is here to do it though

she 

nor anybody really

can wrap their head around the fact that

you are never coming back

boxes

i pour all the contents on the floor

and everything

is a symbol of your illness

some clothes untouched for months

not because it was the wrong season

but because there were 30 or 40

of the same item

and the stench

unwashed 

stained

ripped

you wore your disease

i sorted and repacked

and was able to reclaim

most of the closet for myself

there is metaphor everywhere

living dead

it’s so hard to mourn somebody who is still alive

who looks the same

and with whom

others interact

as if there is no difference

but we can tell

even if others can’t

that you are lost in your own head

having thrown away all your maps

and tools

meltdowns

tweenness has overtaken our home

she says that she could forgive you

if you got better

but i know we’re on the clock

you only have a few more months

until that forgiveness turns to rage

or worse

indifference

already a profound loss and sadness

drips off of everything

she says

sometimes

you feel like you can’t survive

if you tell somebody how you actually feel

everything

is wrong with this world

everyday

something happens

that reminds me of

something bad that happened

sometimes

when i read things i think that’s what i could have been like

but instead it’s not like that

and it won’t ever be like that

i wish

somebody

could fix life

i hate you

for breaking her

once upon a time

i gave you my heart

but now it belongs to her

and

i 

will

kill

you

if

you

try

to

take

it

from

her

vigilance

we check in with each other

in a sort of obsessive way

about taking showers, going to the bathroom

we are both reassuring each other

that we will always come back

denial

despite the facts

it has taken me months 

to start to really cut

the financial ties

that bind us

months with no car

(because it’s unregistered

and uninsured

and i can no longer afford

to think you’ll be able to right

this sinking financial ship)

we finally go on medicaid

(why am i paying nearly two thousand dollars a month

for health insurance you don’t even use)

and no phone

(why do i pay for you to communicate with everybody

except us)

florida is starting

to catch on to you

three nights in jail

countless firings

three car accidents

and a formal eviction

i thought reading the reports

would be satisfying

but they are humiliating

i married this man

i make your

mug shot

your contact pic

so even though you rarely email

and you can no longer text me

i will never forget

and just like that

your instability escalates

and i need no help

to remind me of your illness

it is everywhere

summer

hard to imagine a summer

not in maine

hard to imagine

a summer in maine

as two of us

we go, despite my reservations

i’m nervous

about the drive

i’ve never done it before

not even part of the way

i always imagined it was so difficult

and that is what justified

all your legal vices

and tantrums the next day

but now i know

that was just you

but maine air is healing

and is what we need

outside

the smell of the ocean

juniper

evergreens

it is perfection

inside

your stuff is everywhere

a constant reminder

of what we have been through

and what we have lost

and considerable weeks

are consumed by 

purging

i find myself checking pockets

before putting things in bags

someone comments about

looking for money

i wish

there is no money to find

i’m just making sure

my donations

don’t land me in jail

i plant

i take last year’s garbage

and recycling

to the dump

i tackle the yard

unweeded

unmulched

for years

it all takes

almost eight weeks

i clean and organize the garage

which was never my space

now i know every nook

and cranny

everything is organized

and labeled

i find more stashed beer

from last year

and i wonder 

how long we’ll be finding things here

covered and hidden

how many more 

lies

and secrets

and secrets revealed

will the future hold

—

it was a lot easier

to rewrite history

when there was only

one of us to witness

two of us

have shifted the balance

it’s hard work

on my own

but there’s nobody else to do it

and i feel so much better

when it’s done

again

still

everything is a metaphor

—

ambiguous grief is hard to manage

it’s hard to explain

that our marriage didn’t fall apart

you did

and you fell

further

farther

to a place where

you couldn’t be a father

you spend so much time

raging against me

threats

vindictive decisions

the police say 

there is nothing they can do

just in case

we

plan escape routes

talk about where to go

what to do

falling into work

summer ends

as if things are normal

i go to work

at her school

it’s not enough

and we spend painful hours applying for food stamps

while you post about meals out

we settle into routine

we find ourselves smiling more

laughing

as if things are normal

but everything starts falling apart

as we approach thanksgiving

she’s so sad

missing who you used to be

your rage subsides

you write emails

as if you’re at camp

as if things are normal

but that time has passed

it’s so far in the past

it’s hard to think of it as reality

more like a dream

now, we are reeling

from years of unpredictability

you send her birthday presents

overnighted, with only hours to spare

as if things are normal

presents she doesn’t like

she tries to throw them all in the trash

i stop her

but i understand why

i’m tired of being resilient

she cries

healing

there was a time

when she would

have killed for your presence

we donate your presents

still in their bag

after months

slowly, we have started to heal

daily hugs at school

we’re ships passing

at an even keel

at recess and lunch

it’s like everybody can see 

the barnacles

covering us

so many teachers

and our principled leader

share with us

their stories

addiction is truly

an infectious disease

and so very few of us

are immune

to its ravages

they have no idea how much their words build us up

make us feel safe

it’s amazing that our temporary facilities

are actually more of a fortress

against unexpected visits

and instability

happy

almost three years

since you ruined the couch

and she’s growing into herself

she feels safer

her personality is changing

she’s louder

more confident

people notice

it occurs to me that 

part of what made her so shy

was navigating

all of this

holding sadness

inside

invisible

she continues to be wise

even when lemon was better

he was only a slightly better version of himself

other people don’t need to get better

they’re always the same

—

i smile more

—

we have so much support

protective

financial

friendship

patience with our non-linear healing

but more than all that

it’s that they believe us

how is belief stronger than our invisible bruises

and yet it is

and always will be

each and every time

.