the smell outside reminds me
i am alive.
the scent of her reminds me i've been dishonest.
the warmth of my lover tells me i've changed
and the aches and pains throughout my body
force me to recognize that i am still in training
for this life.
my strong voice and stronger appetite
reminds me that i'm a force to be reckoned with
if that's what it takes.
smiles unreturned tell me that someone has been failed
somewhere along the way.
missing the truest love of my life at this hour
reminds me that i have been healed.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
pictures of strangers and the stories they tell...
perhaps my views of her are outdated…
what a fucking concept.
My issues with the mother figure in my life are expansive.
Always withholding
Never fully present
Too much scar tissue to get through
It’s a burden I carry
And one she has faced for 36 years. I don’t know how to fix it
Or me or
Even her.
I am acting out of memory
I am acting out of self-preservation
I am acting out from a place of fear.
I have never been able to describe how deep the fissure runs
Or how wide the gaping void is
I have simply been largely unreachable-
a poker face donned with little makeup.
My memory doesn’t serve me well in causation
I couldn’t give you a lot of specifics
But my skin and my mind remembers all too well
Why it is that I protect my only diamond shaped heart so fervently.
But again the question begs to be asked
Are my views outdated?
This shell of a woman who’s mentally unfit
Physically sick in so many ways
possess’ the very things I’ve always wanted-
Unconditional love
Gentility
Acceptance
Truth.
Yet she has blasted and choked me with the time and tides of her cycle
Angry and then soft.
I am merely protecting myself.
I have learned the lesson so many times.
Like the big bad wolf she has played to my vulnerabilities only to lash out
And use me like a pawn.
I do not know how to un date that.
Explain that to every fiber of me
Who has to remind myself every day that I am not the full grown woman that she once was to me
I am so much stronger and resilient than she ever was-
I have nothing to lose
Only that’s where I lie to myself.
I do have so much to lose
I am afraid that I will never have the motherly things that could complete me
From her or anyone else.
Her 26 years of threats and attempts to abandon me, and her children
Have finally turned me to the emotional stone that you would expect.
Love surely resides
But it comes in fits and starts.
That seamless river has been damned and severed
And as much as I’d like to say I’m untouched and unscarred
I am not.
The result in me is a knotty fleshed muscle so capable of strengths
But afraid to fully unfurl…
what a fucking concept.
My issues with the mother figure in my life are expansive.
Always withholding
Never fully present
Too much scar tissue to get through
It’s a burden I carry
And one she has faced for 36 years. I don’t know how to fix it
Or me or
Even her.
I am acting out of memory
I am acting out of self-preservation
I am acting out from a place of fear.
I have never been able to describe how deep the fissure runs
Or how wide the gaping void is
I have simply been largely unreachable-
a poker face donned with little makeup.
My memory doesn’t serve me well in causation
I couldn’t give you a lot of specifics
But my skin and my mind remembers all too well
Why it is that I protect my only diamond shaped heart so fervently.
But again the question begs to be asked
Are my views outdated?
This shell of a woman who’s mentally unfit
Physically sick in so many ways
possess’ the very things I’ve always wanted-
Unconditional love
Gentility
Acceptance
Truth.
Yet she has blasted and choked me with the time and tides of her cycle
Angry and then soft.
I am merely protecting myself.
I have learned the lesson so many times.
Like the big bad wolf she has played to my vulnerabilities only to lash out
And use me like a pawn.
I do not know how to un date that.
Explain that to every fiber of me
Who has to remind myself every day that I am not the full grown woman that she once was to me
I am so much stronger and resilient than she ever was-
I have nothing to lose
Only that’s where I lie to myself.
I do have so much to lose
I am afraid that I will never have the motherly things that could complete me
From her or anyone else.
Her 26 years of threats and attempts to abandon me, and her children
Have finally turned me to the emotional stone that you would expect.
Love surely resides
But it comes in fits and starts.
That seamless river has been damned and severed
And as much as I’d like to say I’m untouched and unscarred
I am not.
The result in me is a knotty fleshed muscle so capable of strengths
But afraid to fully unfurl…
Thursday, March 8, 2012
letter to a talk show...
a million
that's how many times i've asked myself the same question.
how much?
how much can i interrupt her in this journey?
how much should i intervene?
change the outcome?
manipulate her into caring?
or at least thinking she's worth it?
i struggle on most days
which i suppose means i've gotten better at taking care of me and taking on less of her emotionally.
you see i gave up years-
carried a guilt that was never mine to carry
thinking i wasn't working hard enough, trying with all that i have
to make her happy.
sometime ago i let it all go
and stepped aside to hand off the baggage that i was carrying
that belonged solely to her.
i've been happy and more light in my own journey as a result.
i've been reading more about the soul's immortality and how we each must learn lessons and work through our earthly vices in order to fully move on.
if we don't or aren't able to we carry those burdens into our next life.
on some level i think to myself that she is merely not learning her lesson
and in this life she is suffering
she may or may not mean to cause others suffering but when you love
you're inevitably, unequivocally affected.
i think i am not her nor capable of showing her the lesson that she fails to see-
though in my naivete i thought could fix her.
how wrong i was.
and how depressed i was.
to learn that love cannot heal the sort of void she carries.
i could give a thousand explanations for why i think nothing can help her at this point
because she has long but given up
but my reasons are from my truth which may not be hers.
to say that i struggle many days of this life, as her daughter born from another womb,
is to say that she understands who and where she is as opposed to what she is-
the answers are opposite, i know
just as the recognitions and seeming awareness in each of us.
today as the solar storms plummet unseen distances with a force unknown
and the moon shines in her delicate and fierce beauty
i hurt a little
with the familiar thought
that i've asked the same question a million times
and still can't come to a resolution...
that's how many times i've asked myself the same question.
how much?
how much can i interrupt her in this journey?
how much should i intervene?
change the outcome?
manipulate her into caring?
or at least thinking she's worth it?
i struggle on most days
which i suppose means i've gotten better at taking care of me and taking on less of her emotionally.
you see i gave up years-
carried a guilt that was never mine to carry
thinking i wasn't working hard enough, trying with all that i have
to make her happy.
sometime ago i let it all go
and stepped aside to hand off the baggage that i was carrying
that belonged solely to her.
i've been happy and more light in my own journey as a result.
i've been reading more about the soul's immortality and how we each must learn lessons and work through our earthly vices in order to fully move on.
if we don't or aren't able to we carry those burdens into our next life.
on some level i think to myself that she is merely not learning her lesson
and in this life she is suffering
she may or may not mean to cause others suffering but when you love
you're inevitably, unequivocally affected.
i think i am not her nor capable of showing her the lesson that she fails to see-
though in my naivete i thought could fix her.
how wrong i was.
and how depressed i was.
to learn that love cannot heal the sort of void she carries.
i could give a thousand explanations for why i think nothing can help her at this point
because she has long but given up
but my reasons are from my truth which may not be hers.
to say that i struggle many days of this life, as her daughter born from another womb,
is to say that she understands who and where she is as opposed to what she is-
the answers are opposite, i know
just as the recognitions and seeming awareness in each of us.
today as the solar storms plummet unseen distances with a force unknown
and the moon shines in her delicate and fierce beauty
i hurt a little
with the familiar thought
that i've asked the same question a million times
and still can't come to a resolution...
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
15 minutes of possessions...
15 minutes is what i've committed to for writing.
where to begin.
i lost another man in my life feb. 19th. and in that i got a visit from my father bringing possessions of grandparent's that i cherished.
dust has settled in places my eyes have passed over since i was a child and only now do i see the details up close.
dresser drawers with hidden secrets of forgotten socks, always golf socks and so very soft, and a head scarf for hair that was fuzz when i last saw her. i begged her not to be ashamed of her beautiful bald head- i rubbed it and told her it looked good on her.
stories he told us in my new living room, in my new house, while i sat her her chair turned his chair as he held on to anything that brought him closer to her. the chair, it was a surprise. i wasn't expecting to get such a prized item, that i secretly wanted for years- only because it fit her and it fit me so well.
my father brought needlepoints and paintings. the one of her front porch and her favorite flower and two hummingbirds- exactly like what it looked like for years. even after she died..
grampa held on to all those precious things and lived among them until he had nothing to give. he wanted to go to be with her and at last he was..
my home feels more complete now that i have my haven of loved one's possessions. too many at once but all individual and perfect just the same.
the day dad left i opened all the boxes and i wept and finally let it catch up to me- that all of them had gone. the pain was seamless and spilled from every broken place inside of me.. the hurt caught up as the blind went up. the dog barked and i knew one of them was with me.. it's all i needed- the reminder. if only everyday was a day spent recognizing when loved ones are with us. with time and tide we wander further from the one's we anchored ourselves up to. i am thankful for the reminder of each of them. i am happy to relate to earthly possessions to be closer to them for a little while..
my 15 minutes of possessions is almost up. and my mind is at ease and slowly falling blank...
where to begin.
i lost another man in my life feb. 19th. and in that i got a visit from my father bringing possessions of grandparent's that i cherished.
dust has settled in places my eyes have passed over since i was a child and only now do i see the details up close.
dresser drawers with hidden secrets of forgotten socks, always golf socks and so very soft, and a head scarf for hair that was fuzz when i last saw her. i begged her not to be ashamed of her beautiful bald head- i rubbed it and told her it looked good on her.
stories he told us in my new living room, in my new house, while i sat her her chair turned his chair as he held on to anything that brought him closer to her. the chair, it was a surprise. i wasn't expecting to get such a prized item, that i secretly wanted for years- only because it fit her and it fit me so well.
my father brought needlepoints and paintings. the one of her front porch and her favorite flower and two hummingbirds- exactly like what it looked like for years. even after she died..
grampa held on to all those precious things and lived among them until he had nothing to give. he wanted to go to be with her and at last he was..
my home feels more complete now that i have my haven of loved one's possessions. too many at once but all individual and perfect just the same.
the day dad left i opened all the boxes and i wept and finally let it catch up to me- that all of them had gone. the pain was seamless and spilled from every broken place inside of me.. the hurt caught up as the blind went up. the dog barked and i knew one of them was with me.. it's all i needed- the reminder. if only everyday was a day spent recognizing when loved ones are with us. with time and tide we wander further from the one's we anchored ourselves up to. i am thankful for the reminder of each of them. i am happy to relate to earthly possessions to be closer to them for a little while..
my 15 minutes of possessions is almost up. and my mind is at ease and slowly falling blank...
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