Author: Freegrandmaa

Surrealist Recluse
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Baby

I just need that the baby takes from me what it needs

More relief as I shed tears

I have no problem feeling like shit

As long as my baby is healthy

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The best lover

I told myself I could be the best lover

Listen to me

I told myself I could form the fairytales with words and my own hands

With imagination and soul

Choosing to go where the sky bends

And the water calls me out and balances me

Soothed over as honey

On a chest so sweet

So deep dark and brown

Sitting under crowns

Floating on clouds

I believed it, yes I believed it

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July 1, 2022

Her sun rolled his bouncy ball into a stream on purpose.
Mama goes after ball as her sun cries insistently for his bouncy ball’s return.
In the midst of the haste Mama takes stroller down into stream with her.
Mama and the stroller are in the stream.
All of mama’s stuff gets soaked; her phone, keys, purse…everything.
She grabs the ball and throws it up the little hill.
Her sun grabs it and throws it back in. This happens twice before she’s had enough.
Her sun thinks it’s a game and jumps in too.
She attempts to salvage everything.
Her sun now cries insistently because he notices his waterbottle is floating down stream.
Mama says forget that water bottle.
She regrounds.
She rescues all her belongings.
She takes a deep breath, and sternly tells her sun “get it together”
Then,
She walks down stream and retrieves her sun’s waterbottle.

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October 15, 2018

I pray this is the last time I have to break my mothers heart… I can’t think of anything… What is the way? I’m trying to make a relationship work, everything in me tells me it’s wrong, but something is telling me not to give up.

The most difficult part of healing is the era right before the climax when the voices begin to sound the same and you must learn discernment. It becomes a strain to hear the truth; to know right from wrong.

This baby inside me is right, right?

What am I going to do?

Prepare for either and decide later I suppose.

I really need to show up for myself now. I have to prove to myself that I can do it, that I will be a successful mother. That I can be me. Whoever that is.

I pray to find myself.

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July 3, 2019

It makes sense. I’m a lover. I’m passionate about love. Meant to embody it’s essence. I fall in love with anything, the lightest and darkest of things. Though my heart has gotten many beatings. I will never stop. And yet she loves to try and try again. Right now my most important love is my sun. X is it all… I’ve watched bits of the sunset. I’ve sorted through my past lovers like solitaire. I wonder why I hold on so tightly like…

Why am I filled with curiosities? Is it possible to outgrow your lovers? To forget them.?

I’ll never forget my sun. I replay his birth and his numbers over and over in my head. I want to always be able to see it clear as day. He’s growing right before my eyes and I can’t squeeze him any tighter. He loves affection, he deserves it. I love knowing that he feels loved. I love making good choices in thought of him.

My love has outgrown me for him. Still sleeping through the night, still nursing. I get tied up in how he sleeps. The different positions. How his little arms folds and gets heavier and heavier with each soft sweet breathe. He gets sleepier. He loves the water; when we take baths together, he’d karate kick and chop the water until he’s all worn out, then fall straight to bed.

Taking it one day at a time. I have much to do, much to shift, and ample enough time, and the willpower as well.

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Connections

Connections aren’t clear as Babylon glitches. We’re here then we aren’t. It puts me off. So I limbo and toe the ground. Put my cheek on it, feel the heat.

It’s the earth. And she’ll make it up to me.