POEMS BY REBECCA SHEA: Planted, The Purple Room

Last updated: August 26th, 2019

I filled my watering can with holy water
And used it to water my lawn
So the grass would finally be greener
On the side that I was on
I got a priest to bless the sea before I jumped in
Hoping that if holy water consumed me
I would feel whole again
Fish swam up to baptize me
Blowing bubbles in my ear, saying:
“This time it will be different!”
“This time it will be OK!”
All of my breaths go towards staying calm
Not forming words
I am looking for God but I only see fish
I try to speak
But the only words that come out are
“This is not OK!”
“None of this is OK!”
The fish look at me like they understand
How can they understand?
In their world, every breath I take
Brings me one step closer to drowning
The priest is at the shore
Jesus is walking on top
Moses has parted the sea and is looking for me
But I am at the bottom on the left side
Behind a collapsible wall
No one told me it was so fragile—
If the wall breaks so easily
Then why can’t I leave?
I am so far below, I no longer see my own reflection
My anchor is gone, but I cannot move
Something else is keeping me
I tell the fish how I walk down the street
And fall in love with every person I meet
I feel a connection with every person I see
Except for me
I met God four times this week
But I was not ready to speak
And The Little Mermaid lied to me.
I don’t want to be on shore
Or under the sea
I take a deep breath, inhaling the water
Expecting to sink
Down past the ocean floor
But instead, I float
I emerge from the water
God stands waiting for me
Holding a mirror for me to see
Every scar on my body has disappeared
My hair changed colour
But I am still me
The roots I planted
Were in the sand I stand in
No wonder they did not grow
The love letters I wrote to myself so long ago
Wash up on the beach
It finally occurs to me
As long as I stand here, I will never be free

The Purple Room

From this tiny window, the sky looks any colour but blue
And I am having trouble remembering what is true
When the base for ‘true’ is gone
Over and over I paint this room
Trying to feel brand new
Keeping track on the wall
Of the moments
I haven’t thought of you
I painted the entire world her favourite shade of purple
So maybe she would want to stay
I only ended up finishing our room
Bottles keep washing up from the sea
I open every one, thinking it might be for me
But none of them are from you
Hanging them from my ceiling
Creating chimes, but the window does not open
The only breeze is from my breath when I try to talk to you
And everything is the same except the sky isn’t blue
My shadow is my only anchor and
I’m feeling sorry for Peter Pan
No wonder he left to Neverland
I would have, too.
Imagine the one thing stuck to you wanting so badly to leave?
And all of a sudden I understand.
I carved your name into the sand
Walking bare feet
Tracking remnants of the beach
Into our newly empty
Purple room

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