GOOD DAYS AND BAD DAYS: A Poetry Month Closing In The Form Of An Email Exchange With My Father.

In honor of all things brave and vulnerable—all things poetic—I am sharing this exchange with you now.  Thanks for the amazing month.

On Thu, Apr 26, 2012 at 6:36 PM, Amber Rose T <***************> wrote:

Dear papa,

I didn't get the part. More and more I fail at being someone else, someone else is all I've ever known how to be—failing at being myself. I cut off 5 inches of my hair last night. Peeled off the sparkled silver cross painted on my right thumb. Threw my favorite high heels into the East River. Take that, Prada. Up yours, Ego. I rimmed the auras of my eyes in stenciled black. Rubbed a lilac stem against my ear. It was raining outside then. Thomas Sayers Ellis took one look at me in the bookstore and wrote down, "Amber. No More Bad Days." I hope that you are not disappointed in me. I hope you aren't taking this show not happening as hard as I'm taking it. I need you to not give up believing in me. I need you to help me believe in myself. I need you to not hit the bottle and stare at the television and be depressed the way I am going to do tonight. I need you to be strong for me. Strong in the way that perhaps, when you ever felt like a failure, you could not be for yourself. Toast mom to all that's been accomplished in a short lifetime and say: Your  time will come.

On Thu, Apr 26, 2012 at 7:45 PM, Russ Tamblyn <*************> wrote:

Daughter,

I'm over it!

You just were not supposed to do this show. I KNOW something even better will come along.
Please don't feel bad about it.  You're time will DEFINITELY come again and I believe
in you emphatically!

I love you, you dramatic poet!  papa