Poetry

Consumption

I try to embrace the encroaching darkness
like a lost lover, but afraid it will
consume me all the same.

© Sarah Doughty

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Poetry

Scraps

Oh, how sweet they are,
those scraps you leave in your wake,
as you drag me behind you.

Don’t be the one that follows blindly behind someone willing to use you to get ahead in life.

© Sarah Doughty

A spin on another poem of mine, called “Pennies.”

Poetry

Legacies

“For you, my love,
surviving hell was worth it.”

If I died when I was young, what would this world look like?

It’s not so much the legacy of my words. The baring of my soul. Or the what ifs of friends and family. If no one knew me, they wouldn’t know what they’d be missing.

But there is one very important thing that couldn’t exist had I not been here. My child. This living, breathing, growing organism that started as nothing more than a few cells. A random meeting of chance and pristine circumstances. I felt him growing. I heard his first cries. Saw this eyes, smelled his skin, and felt his little fingers wrapped around one of mine. I felt those bear hugs, heard those giggles and first words.

If I didn’t live — if nothing happened the way it did, that little miracle wouldn’t have seen the light of day.

So, yes. Surviving hell was worth it.

© Sarah Doughty

Poetry

Nuclear

“I felt him all the way down on a cellular level.”

I felt him all the way down on a cellular level. The sparks between us were electric. Like our bodies were nothing more than a chemical reaction. Neurons fired and atoms collided together, letting me know just how right we were together.

It didn’t matter if the rest of the world would burn. Sense and logic were gone. Nothing mattered more than the two of us.

© Sarah Doughty

Random Thoughts

Discussion of “IT”

*Minor spoikers ahead. Proceed with caution.**
The thoughts expressed here are mine.

This was written in response to the discussion posted by Tyson Adams.

I was a fan of the Goosebumps books when I was six. So naturally I thought I was perfectly capable of handling the “It” miniseries when it was released. To say I was terrified was an understatement. But I was hooked. I dropped those Goosebumps like a bad habit and started reading Stephen King.

It, the book, was quite engrossing, but not so much scary. I liked the way the news reports were presented, and even the narrative of Pennywise gave us a new way of seeing him. But the chemistry with the Loser’s Club was really the core of it. Of course, there was that strange scene near the end of the kid’s journey that unified them and allowed them to become adults all in one go. Let’s just say, King’s voice of how was quite the odd method of achieving that goal. But otherwise, I rather enjoyed the story.

I’ve seen the miniseries from time to time over the years and remember those frights with fond appreciation. But I waited to watch “It” again in favor of having a somewhat cleansed palette. The theatrical version was so far beyond what I’d hoped for, that I saw it again a second time this past weekend. (Trust me, having C-PTSD and carefully planning an excursion into a dark theater full of people wasn’t easy.) The new Pennywise isn’t like Tim Curry’s portrayal, where he was apt to start cracking jokes, playing on actual clown humor around the few “scary” moments where he appeared as period-specific monsters.

Bill Skarsgard’s version is childlike in nature, but he has a deep hatred for kids. You can tell from the first, and notably more infamous “Georgie” scene. The way he terrifies his victims before attacking them is almost like marinating his food just the way he likes, and when the kids are good and terrified, he’s ready to save them for hibernation time. And he does this in various forms, depending on the individual fears of that child. For instance, rather than seeing Pennywise as the wolfman, Ritchie is just afraid of clowns, and naturally gets stuck in a room full of them. This adds a bit of timelessness to the movie. But when It is ready to take them for good, he toys with the kids in an almost animalistic way, much like a lion might play with a gazelle before ripping out its throat. But when he does this, his movements, voice, and abilities to shift reality are erratic, sometimes disturbingly fast, and very unpredictable, which is ultimately what makes this Pennywise so terrifying.

Of course, after my second viewing of the new movie, I went back to watch to miniseries. I have to say, the miniseries doesn’t do the movie justice. I spent most of my time rolling my eyes at the horrid acting (aside from Curry’s portrayal) and wondering how I was actually that scared at all in the first place. But the eyes of a young child, see much differently than adults. I can’t imagine how kids will react to this movie. I’m certain I won’t be allowing my son to see it until he’s at least the same age as the Loser’s Club.

© Sarah Doughty

Poetry

Don’t Presume To Know

People have no business talking about things they don’t know. For those self-proclaimed experts on the matters of depression, keep your thoughts to yourself.

I thought this old piece, Presumptuous, was fitting to share again:

Maybe you
can tell me
what it takes
to survive.
You seem
to have
all the answers
anyway.

© Sarah Doughty