Twisted Sunrise, May 2014

I wish I could go back

To before

I remember the full moon was beautiful

And you were pissing me off

I was pissed off with you a lot,

If I’m honest

You were so far in denial

With the rainbow bandaids all up your arms

The cutesy artwork

Hiding a mess of cigarette burns

And the food, the fucking veganism

Those goddamn healthy pitta-breads

And the endless candy

That you were only going to throw up

The fact you were so obsessed with your fucking self care

With your rituals – your movies, the incense, the yoga, the nail polish

Self care – like a sick joke

Healthy food. Cutesy bandaids.

And we were all supposed to ignore the fact

That you were drinking with your pills

That you had pneumonia more times than I have fingers

That you crashed your car every week for a fucking month

That you’d been disappearing for over a year

Until you looked 67 instead of 32

And I barely recognised you anymore

And your goddamn idiot teenage fans

Those fucking repulsive teenagers, who idolised you

And idolised you even more once you were dead

 

So, yes. You pissed me off.

But I wish I could go back, to before

Before the full moon

Before your brother’s crass announcement  –

Or maybe not crass – he just couldn’t find the words,

But all he said was “Gretchen is dead. She died in her sleep last night.”

Just that. On your account. As a status update.

And I’m sorry, but I laughed at it

Because it had to be bullshit

I saw you drinking cocktails in the sunshine

Just two days before

And you’d been here forever

In my life

So you couldn’t just be gone –

Not you

I thought it was bullshit

 

Because I’d been to that place too –

Hadn’t we all?

Bleeding and emaciated and silently screaming

Eating and puking and posting pictures of nothing

But endless food and our shrinking selves –

The only things we valued

Bones and sinews, and shiny candy wrappers

But it never lasted – it never took anyone –

That’s why I was so pissed off

I was pissed off with you

Because you wouldn’t just move on

From this annoying phase

This dip into idiocy that we were too fucking old for

I thought you’d come back, and then you’d be fun again

I didn’t see it.

That we were too fucking old –

That was the clue, the clue I missed

Too fucking old to weigh 60lbs

To live on alcohol, and pills

And just keep on going

That we weren’t 18 anymore

I didn’t see it

And I’m sorry

I’m sorry for that

 

But I don’t know what I would have changed

I was mean to you, sometimes

Because you were being stupid

And those teenage fools were idolising your self destruction

And you believed your own lies

And I wanted to slap you

So I did, verbally, a few times

I hope you forgave me

But I suppose it doesn’t matter

I think everything was too late

Your collision course was so long in the making

I couldn’t stop you

Maybe even you couldn’t stop you

 

But I wish I could go back to before

Before the full moon

And tell you how much you meant

That I loved you even though you fucking pissed me off

And that I’d miss you forever

And that you mattered

I don’t think you knew that

How much you fucking mattered

Like a goddamn rockstar

And the mourning spread over the whole world

For you, for weeks

You left holes in souls on every continent

 

I see you in every rainbow

In every full moon

And if life ever gets too much

It’s nice to know that I’ll see you again

When I get there.

 

Miss you, G xx

7 Responses to “Twisted Sunrise, May 2014”

  1. This is beautiful. “you left holes in souls on every continent” – yes.

    • Thank you 🙂 It was a 2am more or less unedited scribble, and probably more angry than I’d intended…I guess it’s been long enough now that I can be angry with her, and truthful about that, not that it serves any purpose… She deserves a brighter tribute really, but I’m rubbish at those… :-/ I want to try writing another song, I was never happy with the first one, and she does deserve one, so I’ll have to try again…

  2. CandyGirl Says:

    This is beautiful in the sheer honesty. We hope that we can be honest with those whom we love, but sometimes, it just doesn’t get through. I love that this is virtually unedited. I think that the fact you haven’t given a saccharin sweet “tribute” and shared what you felt, truly and honestly, does more to honour Gretchens memory than anyone skirting around the truth of the situation. She was a beautiful friend to you, with a horrible disease. One that ultimately took her away from you, it’s right that you feel angry. As survivors of addiction and EDs (I truly feel EDs are just another manifestation of addiction, they clearly go hand in hand), I think we feel a duty to offer that hand up to others who are suffering the way we have done.

    Take heart in knowing your friendship was built on a rock of honesty.

    XOXO

  3. Hi Dorian,
    I only found you and subscribed to your YouTube this year I love what I’ve seen of your work I find your videos extremely entertaining. I followed your link from purple ghost and this poem really suprized me. In a good way!
    My sister was a bulimic, alcoholic, heroine addict bla bla etc etc . I am kind of a bit in shock to read something so close to my internal monologue of anger written down so I just had to tell you so bare with me please lol . She died at 23 of liver failure coming up to 6 years ago it honestly gets harder year on year. The time is a healer and other such platitudes are such complete bullshit. Anyway I just wanted to say I hear you and thank you.

    Arrgh Iv never messaged a stranger before this is all new territory for me lol.
    Kindest regards

    • Hello! I actually hadn’t re-read this poem in a long, long time – it still makes me sad… There are still things almost every day that make me think, ‘Gretchen would really appreciate this’, or ‘I wish I could tell G about this’…but it does feel different now, 4 years and about 15 days on – it doesn’t feel like a huge hole of a loss anymore, or like a ghastly tragedy, it’s more like she just went home early from the party, from the week-long festival, and we’ll be out of touch for a while – her phone’s dead, there’s no wifi, but eventually we’ll catch up 🙂 And strangely, I think it’s losing my dog that’s made me so philosophical about death – I thought him dying would be almost unbearable, but actually, it’s fine – I have endless good memories, I have so many photographs, I got everything I was ever meant to have there, so how could I feel sad.

      …but it’s gotta be different, losing someone who was just 23, and in such an awful way :-/ I don’t know that I can even relate to what it must have been like for your sister – I’ve been through eating disorders & addictions, but to die from liver failure…to feel that coming, & still be unable or unwilling to change, I…dunno, I guess when I was 18ish I was realistically near death, & I really didn’t give a shit – I think you assume you’re invincible at that age, or you actively want to die…and it only becomes sad when you live into your late twenties & suddenly almost no one wants to die anymore, & you realise how depressingly futile young self-destructive deaths are 😦

      There’s nothing I can really say, but I’m sorry you lost her like that…

  4. I think its so strange how aesthetic can sway the human mind so much that both I and many people I know change their life so much to fit the picture they have in their mind. This is one of the most beautiful and sadly understandable poems Ive ever read. I love your youtube channel. ❤ ❤ sending love!

    • Thank you ❤ It had long ceased to be about aesthetics, for G, I think. God…I dunno. She posted pictures a lot, needed the reassurance of comments, but hated the creepy compliments, didn't like being that thin but hated gaining weight. I didn't get it – she had drugs around; once I had drugs around I didn't need the ED to feel ok – drugs were a superior method, to me…but G was was more hooked into self hatred than I ever was. Worse things happened to her, growing up. No details, but even the good members of her family betrayed her to the core – I don't think she could ever love herself after that, after being betrayed like *that*, so young. I wish I'd known her growing up – wish we could've been there for each other, not lonely pre-internet kids on opposite sides of the world but so similar… Anyway, she had love in spades to give, so much so she even gave it after she died – my first paranormal encounter…but none for herself. I'm so glad for Facebook's Memories function; I still get wished happy birthday, every year, by G. I love that. Never forgotten…even though I'm older now than she'll ever be, and she was always the one to lead the way, that was how it was meant be :-/ Maybe I'll give her a new poem someday…where I wish she was, what I wish she was doing, the half-baked wishes and plans she'd sometimes come out with when she was feeling optimistic…I'd like to dream up that vision… ❤

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