The warmth oozing from his brown eyes
I had to look
We locked in
I wanted him to see all of me
I wanted to be looked at by him forever
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.
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.
DAYDREAMER
One hundred Lonely Years
One hundred lo lee years
is a trusted risk
diminished too quick
teasing taste of bliss
June 24, 2018
I miss being comfortable in my body. Every mourning I wake to discomfort and nausea that can last hours.
I miss wine. I miss being able to eat and not eat whenever as I pleased. This baby is taking away my freedom. I am a slave to my baby.
By choice with trust of course though.
Bones
March 12, 2017
Remembering
Sometimes I catch a scent; smell something, and I remember having roommates for the first time. My own room. I used to paint my naked vessel and rejoice in what I thought was adulthood. Silly naive me.
Sometimes I hear a song. It takes me back. I feel my belly drop to my toes as my tear ducts instinctively fills up, releasing the sight of my being… In the psychiatric unit having a time. I’ve never felt so safe, so understood. I will never forget my time in X.
All the beautiful lost souls I met and loved. I pray they too found themselves again. My baby, I was so young. I used to feel so sad. I am free from all of that. Hurt, pain. I am sending love to my inner child always.
One day
One day see the fruits of my labor
Miracle after miracle
How lightly I’ll float by
I’m sure I wouldn’t even recognize
How slow my mind processes
I’ve been keeping my eyes to myself
Can’t see me
Refuse to see
One day I’ll be a shooting star and won’t be able to help but notice.
I won’t even be able to stop; catch a glance or nothing
The collisions will simply be an after thought as I’m smoking a winter spliff
Crust
