If my mother were still alive, she would have been sixty-four. I still can’t believe I lived nearly twenty years without her. Through my writing and my life adventures, I hope to continue to understand her. There aren’t many people to ask about her. I hope to create an autobiography showcasing what a great woman she was. When she passed, I only heard stories that made her sound crazy and lonely. She was too beautiful for that to be the only truth.
Tag: Random
First Lie
The first lie I ever learned was a word Just four letters that everyone strived for You say it to your parents, you say it to your friends When in reality it’s just a means to an end Learning about the person Objectifying who … Continue reading First Lie
My Place
Wiping the tears Rubbing backs Cooking while singing Binge watching Loving the way they wake up Listening to complaints First time in a month First time in months Unanswered texts Cute pics on SM Alone Stories unfold Without me Standing here My choice In my … Continue reading My Place
Doormat
She knocked on my door like she always did
Ghost like
Nothing to do, why not hang out with a friend
She knows I don’t see her as a friend
We pretend
I tried to quiet my heart
Unable to stop it’s talking when she was near
She just wanted sleep
She could have gone home
She could have done something more productive
Alas, here she is in my bed sleeping
I play the music loud to drown out my heart
She can’t hear either
Me liking her makes no sense
We’d never be compatible
Then I watch her breathe
How peaceful she looks
I watch as she takes a breath
Follow the flow of oxygen
In through her nose
Symmetrical with her lips
Always slightly chapped
Like how she’s always slightly hungry
Down her long tanned neck
Her chest moves with life
Always sighing in sleep
Then she wakes up blinking at me
Caught
She stares into my eyes
Forcing me to fidget
She has an amazing person
I try to remind myself
We’ve been friends for long
Not love, just infatuation
Memories
When we said ‘I love you’
As friends
Next to her gravitational pull
I have pictures
My lips her kneck
My lips her thighs
My lips between her
She’s just a friend
I’m just a doormat with a bed
One that always says ‘Welcome Home’
What is lonely?
She remembers this feeling. It’s nothing new, a decade ago she felt it too. Restless, disappointed, and scared. Still having trouble with fixing these issues. She used to wonder how people acted the way they did, how they kept moving. She hasn’t been able to shake the feeling of uselessness as she wonders once again the point to anything. She has been staring at her phone, that cost her more than her rent, realizing that no one was going to text her. Even if they did text her or call what would she even talk about? How she is stuck? That she knows soon everyone will be gone doing great things, while she’s still here doing nothing. Or, how about her fear of doing things because after putting all that effort in you didn’t even enjoy it? Talk about the empty? It doesn’t matter, so she sits. Or, rather, lies on her bed staring at the ceiling. Thinking about how much time is left on this earth for her. It weighs upon her chest and makes her want to do something.
“Twenty-four years is so long. I feel so tired. I haven’t even done or seen much. Nothing has happened to me. However, I’m over it. There are people who’ve done and seen so much. Someone could do great with this life. I really wish it wasn’t given to me.” She thinks.
She decides it’s too quiet, that was what was wrong. She puts on some music which does nothing but reminds her of the past. She wraps the music around her like the comfort blanket it is. She stops hearing music and only sees pictures. The different people she liked. The different people she tried to befriend. The realization that she never learned to connect with anyone.
Her eyes grow heavy and she accepts that none of this will change. All because of her. It all goes black to the perfect world called sleep. Her phone lighting up and singing goodnight.
How to Feel
I tried to grab her
All I got was air
She left the way I knew she would
What to do?
Now that the light is gone
I’m here empty
Is this how an empty husk feels?
Forced to exist
Having no reason to
Not wanting to
You woke up though
Seize the day, is it?
Your purpose in life is not to die
Even if that is all you are thinking
Blue, Bird
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.
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.
inquisitivepenelope 