One son named Blue and a daughter named Birdy. I’ll tell my son every day that the world wants to see him cry and sing. He will roar and breathe fire letting the world to see his strength. I’ll tell my daughter that the song blackbird isn’t her life story. She will fly meeting many people to learn from. Absorb the confidence, patience, and strength of our ancestors. Learn more, strive for more and people will see your name and color in a different light. I will tell them this because I never grew my strength, I want for them to find and cultivate theirs. To show the world that wisdom and kindness go together and shouldn’t be considered a weakness. That we never really grow up but are able to slowly make the right decisions. That I love them, that they are mine, and I will always cheer for them. I won’t tell them that they are special, that’s something they need to find out themselves. My dear bluebirds I set you free in a dark and cold world; my light always pointing towards warmth and peace.
Category: writing
The Drowning Child
There once was a child born underwater. Her mother felt it safer and a better way to grow her. She lived her days watching her mother and all else walk over her. From where she stood neither way of living looked better. Her mother was sick and kept the extent of it from her, by the time she found out her worst nightmare was upon her. She knew there’d be people wanting to save her, but she wasn’t so sure if they really wanted to help her. The death of her mother made her pull herself further. Under the deep blue filter the people looked smaller, were they just ghosts of what was offered? She questioned if these realms were even for her. So many people arms outstretched above her, still, she just continued to swim down under. As she saw the helping ropes and good blessings she started to realize that she should have never even bothered. Every day is a horror that she cursed these poor people hoping to see the drowning child to touch and comfort. She never learned and didn’t want to, still, she felt bad for the people above her. She should try to live like they, she thought often. She was never able to get past horror. She’s still down under the water filling it with tears and salt hoping to choke her.
Nothing
Nothing. Me, life, dreams, beauty.
Ears, mouth and sighs. Nothing.
No skills, no faith, no time, no feels.
Nothing, wanting more, fear.
Not happy, no one is. Nothing left. Only fear.
Nothing. Fear. Life, death. Difference? None. Last step. Death.
Nothing. Me. Nothing. Death. Freedom.
Stolen Firsts Pt. 2
Fighting with the door, I stumbled into my dad’s apartment. Wiping my lips before walking in; the bottom half of my face still feeling wet. I didn’t go to that random guy’s apartment, John he said his name was. I did get his number, saying that I would call him and maybe take him up on his offer. I hugged my dad, told him about my crazy night at work, and my crazy drunken after work party with my bestie. Forgetting all about what had happened a block away from his apartment.
Summer turned into fall and the what if questions began to creep in. What if I had gone with him, What if I had called him the next day? Would I have turned into a manhunt case? With the curiosity building and my libido bubbling over I gave him a call.
“Hello?” He answered with his thick Italian accent. It made me wonder how long he has been here.
“Hey! Um, is this John? I don’t know if you remember me but I met you in Harlem. My name is Upenda?”
“Oh yes! I remember you, the beautiful girl I saw when I was getting off of work a few months ago. It has been so long! Why did you not call me, you didn’t like me?”
“No. Just busy, you know. You work around where I was that night? Where do you work?”
“I’m a personal trainer at Planet Fitness. If you ever need help getting in shape I can help you. However, I wouldn’t want you to lose your body. I love my women bigger.”
I sighed internally. Will this be a fetish thing? Not that I wasn’t alright with it. I just didn’t know what kind it would turn into.
I knew when he said “Baby, let me take you out to eat and shopping. I bet my baby would like that, right? Daddy loves to see his baby happy.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
How’d you like it? I know my grammar and sentence structure is terrible. Please leave comments and feedback!!
Adulthood
It kind of feels like you’re still five years old and you get thrown into a fire pit
No warning that there is such a thing that could hurt so much
No rules on how to get out of it
Just burning
While in this fire you will meet other people who are on fire
Their fire seems less hot and easier to deal with
You try to learn their ways only to have it backfire
You wonder why no one taught you any of this
What was all that education for?
What were parents, teachers, and professors for?
They stand there soaking wet as you burn
All the while saying how proud they are
“Proud that I’m dying?”
“We went through it. You’ll be ok”
Forget this system of misinformation
Only One
I hate how life feels like
A dog on a treadmill chasing after a steak
Pretending that we all know what we are doing
Judging others only on what we can see
Is it wrong of me to see everyone’s beauty?
Is it wrong of me to see the unnecessary?
I would much rather enjoy life
It must have been manufactured by a lunatic
It doesn’t have to be so hectic
What if you are the type of person that just wants to exist?
Why is that so wrong?
When you try so hard to get somewhere but you really didn’t get anything at all
Am I the only one?
Stolen Firsts
“Oh, shit!” He said, with panic. I looked down at him worried “What’s wrong? What’s happening”
“There’s a lot of blood. I’ve never seen this much blood. Does it hurt?” “No, let me get up.” I get up staring at the bed that looks like a murder scene. I then feel a rush of blood and other wet things pour out between my legs. The floor is red, my clothes are red and he’s going to need to buy a new bed.
Two years earlier, coming out of the subway was when I first met him. I was wasted, tired and hungry. Climbing the never ending stairs while mentally counting how many blocks it was to my father’s house. A muscular man, 6’2” walking towards me, throws his cigarette and chugs the last of his coffee. He then says to me “Hey baby, did you have a goodnight?” I don’t know this man, I don’t know anyone here. I turn around to see if someone is behind me. Three am really is the hour that everyone stops existing. Noticing that I thought he was talking to someone else he grabs my chin and leans me against the bus stop. My first kiss was all teeth and saliva, from a stranger. I didn’t like it but I didn’t say no, so I guess that convinced him to ask the next question. “Want to come to my house? It’s just up the street from here.”
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Should I continue? I’d love to see some comments
Edgar Allan
She wanted to feel like a rabbit. Afraid that death would come. Right on her heels, she’s just begun. This time she’ll be done. Edgar Allan taught her fear and how eloquent death is. Always listen to the walls and your best friends grand confessions. Crows are great, statues narrate and death can look like a migrant. Cats are not friends. Ask all the questions. You may not always like the answer.
Ice Cream Truck
When you hear the first chime
You know it’s time
To do all the things you pine
The Ice Cream Truck!!
You’re in luck
The best way to spend a buck
That’s not what you want
Your agenda is to flaunt
Maybe a new lover to haunt
Enjoy the sights
Enjoy the nights
Do it with all your might
Look for the mime
Watch the ducks
Never forget to love with your heart
Don’t ever wait for your Knight
Almost Mother’s Day
Almost a whole decade. I find it strange that I never thought to do something for you on this day. I think of you, I think of the things I made for you, had wanted to do for you, and with you. I wonder if I’m doing bad in your eyes, even though you had never thought so before. I still feel bad you know. That someone with such life, amazing dreams, and unconditional love had to leave. I’m nothing like that. There isn’t even anything I want anymore. I’m just living now, being forced to care about so much when I just can’t wait to go to sleep. I can’t even remember much of the past. All the bad conversations, you protecting me like a mother bear, the almost openess we shared. I do miss you, even though I tell myself I don’t. I am upset that we hardly have any pictures together, that I never really got to learn about you from you. I’ve heard many stories about you after your death, I wish I knew your version of it though. As I scrolled down my Facebook feed and saw old pictures of people with their mother’s, I can only remember us having three pics together. Sixteen years with the person that carried me and we only have three pictures together. You almost listened to me when I said to write a will, we almost got close, you almost fell in love again. I’m almost ready to become a person again. I love you.
inquisitivepenelope 