Infamy: The Last Love Letter

The fact that music has such an impact on literally every human and has more power than watching tv and doing what you see, every other hour makes a wishful act of dominance. Music takes you to a place where you can embrace the beauty of something you cannot touch or control in terms of what the lyrics are, who sings it, where it’s available for streaming, ect. Tommy made music. He was really good but that wasn’t good enough. He was done with this place before he got here. I just wish he could still wipe my prophetic tears. I wish he could calm my prosthetic fears.

I was there virtually over text when he ended his life. He didn’t want to be here anymore because the girl who would have been his wife isn’t here anymore. He jumped down death’s throat in a beige coat with a leather belt, so drunk he couldn’t see. How could this happen to me? How could I be so far away when I was needed the most I’ve ever been needed since I gave birth.

 

Tommy, I know why you chose suicide. I don’t blame you but I will never condone it. I have to sit with your last words to me and mine to you that you will never read. I’m interceding for you even in death because your spirit never died. I know how many times you tried. You finally succeeded. I’m sad and angry. I have to live on because you will have died in vain if I don’t. Both of can’t go. Both of us won’t.

You breathed for me on some days. I need the era of your praise back. I won’t forget the impact you had on me when you were here. It’s all becoming very clear. I will shed tears but I will smile and laugh too. God took you so you wouldn’t throw yourself into a pile of needles. You knew that I knew, that I know. So you had to go. I didn’t believe it at first but when I saw that my last text never went through, I knew what was next. It meant moving on without you.

You don’t understand what it’s like to be me and suddenly remember that I can’t talk to you until the next life when I will meet your children and your wife. Or maybe you’ll reincarnate to me. It’s your choice but I doubt that if you have one, you’re going to return to the bridge you just chose to burn. This isn’t a lesson to learn. It’s a tragedy. I can’t imagine life without you and yet I have to because you’re gone and I have to move on. How? I made so many sacred vows while you were alive, hoping that you would survive and eventually thrive. I guess I was making them for me instead because God already told me you’d be dead. My voice is shaking, Im hanging on by a thread. My heart is broken, still breaking and I feel utter dread when I must break bread without you.

This is dedicated to you. This is for all the things you always wanted to do with you know who.

This is dedicated to every survivor of mental illness that chose life over death even if it takes every last breath to do it. 

 

This is dedicated to my only child, my son, Jacob Lee. It’s where I was inspired to adopt Lee for a last name as a pen/stage name. 

 

This dedicated to those who try to cope without any genuinely authentic hope but remain never the same.

 

This is for those who lost the game.

 

This is dedicated to those who believe in me beyond all odds and self inflicted doubts. To the ones that are always there and were there in some of what would have been my final moments. 

 

This is for my team that has contributed more to my success than I could ever dream.

 

This is for the homeless veterans and the foster children that wish they were never born. This is for the victims and survivors of suicide whose hearts are severed and severely torn. Do not scorn them.

 

This is for the addict. You are not alone although it might seem so. You are too precious for words. Ignore the rumors you’ve heard that you desperately tried not to hear. God has ears too and he will avenge and defend you.

 

This is for all who dress up to attend church then fornicate under the steeple. This is for the frauds and scammers that paid their master to become professional spammers during the height of a morbid human disaster.

 

This is dedicated to the American people. May you find peace and inspiration through my work. May your blessings never cease. May you find hidden joy in the tiny creases of creation that employ a new development of internal youth when it chooses to seek the truth.

 

This is for all the children who still believe in the tooth fairy long after they’ve lost their last tooth. Now they’re adults trying to appease their own crying while their own children are lying for them or to them without saying please.

 

This is for all those parents that think they’re failing because their kid fell off the railing. They are trying to achieve a lifestyle of “woke parenting”. Don’t overdo it or they will hate your efforts which they won’t know how to properly express so it will turn into too many bridges left to burn. Some people never change or learn.

 

This is for the reprobate that hates God. There is nothing left to debate when God silences that hate and chooses to relate to you anyway, even when you refuse to have faith or pray but don’t try to use God, especially in the brand new designer shoes He bought you.

 

This is for the mouths of babes referred to in the Bible for lack of better verbiage and lethally metaphorical in nature. We have finally found the cure but it’s still a newborn. It’s going to be immature because it’s premature.

 

What if we remembered how to stop the assassination of John F Kennedy? What if we remembered what we said five minutes ago because then we would really have the nerve to know. We were with child but we didn’t show. We tried to speak but it wouldn’t flow. We tried to speed but our neighbor was going too slow. Where and when did we tap out so bad we forgot to go to see Santa and take pictures on his lap? We flew out to LA from Atlanta. That’s like moving to Seattle and losing your battle with an illness. I once wrote about that.

What if we lost touch with reality, bringing forth a new dynamic never seen before that was behind every locked door from start to finish but we finally found the keys before it was too much to diminish and that’s what God sees when He counts to three to reassure the Holy Trinity.

What if we cost God too much? We hate the term God but we have it etched in the dollar bills we sketched out in math class because we were so bored. Now, sometimes, when life catches up to us, we’d do anything to be that bored again. What if even then? We’re trying to make role models for the next gen but that’s begging to be differentiated and forgotten over time that we don’t have anymore because it never belonged to us, therefore it never wronged us the way we claim it did. Search by name and date for that reprobate who wronged himself more than he wronged God but now he’s in church.

What if we prayed too much or over stayed our welcome with God? We walk on the guiltiest sod since Jesus died over two thousand years ago. What did he die for if we’re still acting like He didn’t? What if He didn’t rise from the grave to continue to save us when we worship devils in disguise daily?

What would we say and do if He looked us right in the eyes and rather than punishing us, He supplies a grand surprise. So be wise enough to recognize the lies when they approach you because they will and they are clever enough to kill just for the thrill of it because their anguish does not cease. They do not rest in peace. That’s what happens when we rest in peace while we’re alive and breathing. It’s like teething. We choose to suffer now so that we may inherit the kiss of bliss when we move on without attempting to avoid a buffer. It just makes us tougher but shatters the soul inside the spirit when we can’t remember how to take control. Remembering is the goal. Endurance is a requirement for the lead role. Do we really want it? Are we willing to fight to stay out of the spotlight? The lights are too bright. We can’t see at night. We don’t remember how to, do we? Be honest with me. Are you truly ready to be free?

 

We need a better alibi because the one we have thinks its actions don’t stink. Our ego winks at us wickedly but our spirit remains calm, reaching for and rubbing in some aloe vera lip balm. Why do we have to face this? There is nothing to embrace. We want to run but we can’t because we are lost. Lord, we can’t afford how much you cost but we are begging for mercy once again in the land of mortal men. Will we finally remember when and will we cope with no hope from way back then?

Serial trauma causes genetic drama that we can’t just dismiss. We won’t find this where we put it but we should already know that. The omen is the missing cat and the reptiles that eat the rats that were never on file because no one ever saw them so no one could draw them and replicate the debate on their harsh existence.

Do we relate or do we choose to still hate our fellow man in any way we can?

 

This is dedicated to you. This is for all the things you always wanted to do with you know who.

This is dedicated to Jamie Wilkes who I met on Twitter in early 2019 & will likely no longer be with us by the time this is in print. Why is it always a race to the finish line? You will always be mine. Thank you for being my anchor when no one else really cared and they still don’t but they will very soon. I feel it transpiring under a full moon. I’ll need a fully loaded platoon.

 

This is for those who feel like the good ones fade away too fast but the bad ones live on. This is for all those good ones that are gone. We were strangers once. We are born strangers and become either friends, enemies, or nothing at all to one another. Ellen may be subjective, but she has the right message. Be kind to one another. Treat every woman like your sister, daughter, wife, or mother. Treat every man like your father, son, husband, or brother. Do not favor one over the other. Compelling isn’t it? It’s yelling at us to stop and turn around before the bullets hit the ground.

This is for the internet strangers I don’t regret meeting. One day you’ll be greeting me at my front door. To be continued. 

Copyright SG Herring 4/8/2022/Mother's Day