Intro to my poetry collection, “Ativan Bleeding.” It’s an actual letter I’m writing to an old friend I grew up with that’s behind bars. Also, a poem to go on the following page. 💔😞
Letter To My Brother
9/24/2023
Not gonna lie bro, I really wish you were here. Like, I fell back from writing this letter for years. I let life distract me, knowing that you were behind bars and to be honest…I miss you bro. A lot has changed. A lot has happened. At the time of this letter, I’m in Michigan. I know it probably sounds stupid saying this, knowing your current situation, but bro I feel lonely as fuck without you out here. Like…no matter what decisions I ever made, I was able to fuck up 110 times and you were still there to let me post up at whatever place you were at. You always bailed me out, and I feel fucked up not being able to do the same for you. I just want you to get out bro, you’ve been the only family I’ve ever really had, including blood. It’s not the same as fucking wit women. It’s not the same as blood. Our shit genuine without any strings to attach. Minus blood and all the extra bullshit excuses. Anyway, I hope you taking care of yourself brother, as much as you can in there. I hope you let this time pass by, and you get out, and stay out. You don’t deserve to be in there bro, I don’t care what nobody say. I miss you. Like tears on this keyboard bro, I wish that shit meant something. I’m out here bitching about shit that don’t really matter, when the only person that has ever really had my back, NO MATTER WHAT, is locked away. Shit doesn’t make any sense. Shit hurts. But imma start writing you more. I promise. I love you brother.
Poem:
I’m back by myself
So I’m back on the Ativan
Dizzy spells and I’m barely standing
Going to the bathroom
Wishing you were here to hold my hand.
She won’t understand.
I need the pills and sometimes an ambulance
She won’t understand.
Hopefully I’m overthinking, because I’m overwhelmed
Wishing you were here to hold my hand.
~ Sakari
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