Climate, p.1
Climate, page 1
penguin life
climate
Whitney Hanson is the author of home and harmony. Through Whitney’s vulnerability and authenticity, she has connected with thousands of readers, and she adamantly believes that poetry is not a dead language; rather it is the key to unlocking true vulnerability, which leads to deeper connection with one another. Whitney grew up in rural Montana and lives in Montana.
Penguin Books
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
1745 Broadway, New York, NY 10019
penguinrandomhouse.com
Copyright © 2022, 2025 by Whitney Hanson
Penguin Random House values and supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader. Please note that no part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purpose of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems.
A Penguin Life Book
Cover design: Emma McNamara
Cover illustration: Emma McNamara based on original illustration by Ruth Bladen
Designed by Sabrina Bowers, adapted for ebook by Estelle Malmed
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Hanson, Whitney, author.
Title: Climate / Whitney Hanson.
Description: [First edition] | New York : Penguin Life, 2025.
Identifiers: LCCN 2024046940 (print) | LCCN 2024046941 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593994238 (paperback) | ISBN 9780593994245 (ebook)
Subjects: LCGFT: Poetry.
Classification: LCC PS3608.A72336 C55 2025 (print) | LCC PS3608.A72336 (ebook) | DDC 811/.6—dc23/eng/20241018
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2024046940
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2024046941
Ebook ISBN 9780593994245
First self-published in the United States of America 2022
Published with an introduction and additional poems in Penguin Books 2025
pid_prh_7.1a_152080851_c0_r0
contents
dedication
introduction
stormy
foggy
sunny
climate
_152080851_
for those whose rainclouds
feel too heavy to shoulder
introduction
When I first published climate I was in a season of shedding my skin. I was feeling the aftershocks of loss and learning that change is both inevitable and deeply uncomfortable. Writing this book was a process of excavating my love for life and finding my way out of a storm.
In preparation of publishing a new edition of climate I found myself faced with a task few writers want to face: rereading my previous work. It had been over a year since I revisited this book in its entirety. So, I did what all the best (or maybe worst) writers do. I procrastinated. I stared at the copy of climate on my bookshelf, and I deep cleaned my kitchen, took a walk, scrolled on the internet. I did anything other than open this book.
I told myself that I was avoiding it because I am a changed person now. I told myself that that I was running because I had outgrown the version of myself who wrote it.
It turns out that as well as being a talented procrastinator I can also be a talented liar.
The honest reason for my avoidance was quite the opposite. What I was most afraid of was that time had passed, and I hadn’t changed. I was afraid that reopening this book would be like reopening an old wound. What if some part of me is still as lost as I was when I wrote these poems?
I would like to say that I was wrong. I would like to say that I do not recognize myself in these pages. But saying that would void the integrity of this entire book. One of my key intentions with climate was to remind myself that it is normal to cycle through various weather conditions. Meaning is derived from journeying through both the sun and the rain.
As I write this introduction, I find myself once again in a season of great change and stormy weather. As I revisit these pages, I do see myself staring back at me. I have grown and changed, but life has a way of teaching us the same lessons over again in different ways.
As difficult as it may be to look my past self in the eyes, there is something comforting in the way life parallels itself. There is solace in knowing I have been here before and the clouds eventually passed.
So, as you find your way through this book, this is the message I hope to impart to you: change is inevitable and deeply uncomfortable. But instead of fighting the change, I hope you allow yourself to feel it all. Learn the same lessons over and over if you need to. Let go and let go and let go until you really do. Storms tend to find their way of coming back around, but eventually so too must the sun.
So too must the sun.
you did not cause this storm
the storm was always inside me
you just set it loose
probably friends
possibly lovers
but definitely not nothing
those were the three thoughts in my mind
the first time your path crossed mine.
when i saw those eyes for the first time.
then i learned your favorite color,
realized how easily you paint a smile
across my serious disposition.
I started practicing learning you.
thinking about you a little too much
in my spare time.
then the three thoughts changed.
probably lovers
possibly friends
but definitely not nothing
then things began to change.
i realized the love only went one way.
i started anticipating the feeling of you pulling away. your sentences became shorter
as my grip became stronger
on the love that was falling from my fingertips.
you took my smile as easily as you had given it.
the three thoughts chimed one more time.
probably nothing
possibly friends
but definitely not lovers
i wasn’t happy
but i was with you
and truthfully
happiness was the least of the things
i would sacrifice
to love you
i know that i’m supposed to put myself first
but i was putting myself first
because what i wanted more than anything
was to be yours
what if you thought
they were everything?
what if it felt like the galaxies had whispered
your names in the same breath?
what if they
became your person?
what if they learned every bit of you
and you learned every little piece of them?
what if they became
all your future plans?
and what if
it ends?
tell me,
what then?
even after you broke my heart
you tried to make me smile and laugh
you hated to see me hurt
that is the most devastating kind of heartbreak
the kind where you both still care
there is a part of me that will always be yours.
one of the scariest feelings
is watching a person outgrow you
as if you are an old pair of shoes
that they wore a bit too long.
you’re stuck in what once was
and they’re ready to move on.
slowly the person you met
only exists inside your head.
you can’t help fighting for a love
that has long been pronounced dead.
love requires that we grow together
you along with me,
but truth be told sometimes in love
you begin to grow separately.
i always leave the party early
just to hear someone ask me to stay
i always leave love early
so that i can hear the same
truthfully, I crave a love
who doesn’t play my game
and notices my presence
before I’ve walked away.
i think when the universe rolled the dice
it put your name on one side
and put mine on the other
and though the dice could roll
a hundred thousand times
your name will never end up
landing next to mine
~cruel game
hand-holding is a mutual activity
no matter how tightly you grasp
there will always be something you lack
if they do not hold you back
&n
being your first choice
implies that there is a second choice
i wanted to be your only choice
for once i wanted someone to be so sure of me
that everything else disappears.
it costs me so much more than my love to love you.
they don’t see it all
the people who are telling you
to let it go
all they see
is the destruction of a broken relationship
they see the tears and fights and frustration
they see all the ugly broken parts
they see what is left
they don’t see how the ruins were once a castle
the rubble was once a masterpiece
this love wasn’t always so broken
it’s easy to tell you to walk away
when they can’t see all you’re walking away from
i didn’t know it was possible
to suffer the weight of forever
in a moment
but that was how it felt
looking at you for the last time
the worst of it all
is that i understand exactly why
you had to go
the worst of it all
is that i can never feel my pain
without feeling yours first
the worst of it all
is that i can’t hate you
because i know every reason
you did what you did
the worst of it all
is that i can’t be angry
because my anger is always
accompanied by guilt
i’m so tired of being wise
sometimes i just want to be hurt.
they told me my job description
but i think i’ve got it wrong.
they said i was supposed to man the lighthouse
and save lost ships from going down.
but every time i saw the ships
i forgot about the light.
i dove headfirst into the sea
and swam to save their life.
i drowned us both in the process;
the ships never found the shore.
i ended up helping less
when i meant to be helping more.
i think when they told me
to save people with my light,
i mistook their words
and tried to save people with my life.
i know i should have turned the light on,
i know i should have taken their advice,
but i don’t know what love is
if it is not sacrifice.
i wish i knew how to fight for me
the way i fight for you
it happened
the clouds rolled in again
you know them
you know what to do
you wait
just like you have before
and time will carry them away again
sometimes i wake
with shadows in my veins
that don’t allow me to move
they seep into my bones
they fog my vision
they linger all day long
your silence
is the loudest noise
in this room
your silence screams
“i don’t love you anymore”
louder than your voice ever could
now that this is over
someone else will love you
that simultaneously
comforts me
and ruins me
i wish someone warned me
how destructive empathy could be
i wish someone taught me
that i shouldn’t feel for you
until after i feel for me
i’m still seeing shooting stars
and you are seeing burning rocks
i keep calling this complicated
you’re calling it over
you were always one
to see things
as they are
back to being friends,
but this time
friends who know each other
a little too well
i don’t want someone to fix this.
i want someone to tell me
i don’t need fixing.
i want someone to tell me
the weight of life
is a reasonable excuse
to feel this heavy.
the last time my heart was this dark,
i started picking up hobbies to fill the cracks.
i had to occupy myself to cope.
this time, all i can do is sit here
in my brokenness and wonder
how much more i can possibly take.
i can’t pinpoint an instant that it began
i didn’t wake up one morning
with the weight of the entire sky on my shoulders
i didn’t notice the clouds accumulating
until one day it started to rain
and never stopped
how do i get rid of this heaviness
when it is me?
what if
i am the rain?
i know what
“i don’t want to hurt you”
means
it means
“i’m probably going to”
i can’t sleep.
i can’t do anything but sleep.
i tried to drink healing like it was bleach. i tried to consume anything i thought would erase my memory.
i read books
i drowned my thoughts in music
i distracted myself by using other people
i thought that i could clean out my head
and erase the stains you left
so intently focused on removing the damage,
i forgot i was still bleeding.
it is no use trying to clean up
when you still have open wounds
i discovered that trying to force
premature healing is suppression.
trying to heal too quickly is like poison
and there is nothing more painful
than pouring bleach into open wounds.
i told her i was hurting
she didn’t ask why
she didn’t tell me to explain
she didn’t give me any advice
she just told me it was okay
and let me cry.
sometimes we just need someone to tell us
that what we are feeling is okay.
whatever you are feeling today
it’s okay.
no one is coming
to save you from yourself
the storm inside
is yours to survive
lately i wake up in the morning and already feel i’ve failed. i know it is confusing to you and it doesn’t look like i’ve done a single thing, but please know that sometimes fighting looks different for me. sometimes failure doesn’t require action. it only requires that i moved in my mind and my mind was not impressed with what i did.
i hate to reduce my depression down to a hypothetical happening inside my head. it is more than that. it is heavier than that. but if i can somehow make you understand half of the weight or half of the reason i can’t move from my bed today then maybe i will be one step closer to breathing a little easier. if i can somehow share what it is like to be in my mind i will be one step closer to liberation. if i can make you comprehend why i feel like a failure when i haven’t done a single thing,
