My Mother
You know when you're growing up and you think your parents are superheroes because they can literally do anything. You look up to them and want to be just like them when you grow up. That's how I saw my mother, she was amazing. She took care of seven kids (along with my dad), she cooked and cleaned and worked and even volunteered. She made everything look effortless. It wasn't till I got older that I realized that she had her own struggles and secrets. She had not technically lied to us but she wasnt really honest either. I guess that's what a parents job is, to keep the bad away from their children, to never let them know pain. It didn't work, if you were curious. I wondered how she kept silent all those years, maybe the turmoil of hiding the truth is what drove her mad. She gradually fell into a state of depression, losing the light that was inside of her. How could I fix someone who didn't want to be fixed? Someone who ignored that her castle walls were crumbling down around her. Just like my mother, I ignored what was happening to her, not because I didn't care. I was young and didn't know how the world worked. Maybe I was stupid and just didn't want to face the truth that I was slowly losing her to her sickness. She did things I didn't understand, hurt herself over and over. I always wondered if she was escaping her demons or her family. Maybe both? As the years went on things got worse. My siblings and I would joke that she would go on her yearly vacations, her ’ME TIME ". In actuality she was in behavioral health facilities undergoing treatments. Again, if you're curious they never worked, not for long anyways. At the time I really didn't have faith in God, I suppose I was upset with him for everything that had happened to my family, as if he was in control of our actions. I wanted someone to blame, to hate because I couldn't do that to my mother, I still looked up to her or the her that I remembered. I didn't notice the drug use at first, unlike my siblings I was oblivious to these things. I used to say I was sheltered from the world but that's not true. My brothers and sisters knew the world so why didn't I? The truth, I was scared to live so finding out even more secrets about my mother had messed with me. I pretended that everything was okay, that we were a happy family. I imagined it, I must have because the memories I had didn't fit the memories of my siblings. My mother would have angry outbursts, wailing like a banshee. Perhaps predicting her own death or the many attempted ones. Time had passed yet again and she had gotten to the point that she needed shock therapy, she lost some of herself during that time, forgetting bits and pieces of the past and present. And again more time had passed and so had one of my brothers, her baby. She wasn't the same, masking pain with silence. After he was gone, I thought we had become close, we talked and laughed, we did things that normal mothers and daughters did but was it real? I don't remember telling my mother that I loved her, even as a child, so I started. Shy and timid, afraid that she wouldn't say it back and she didn't but that was okay because that's how our family was. We didn't say I love you or even hug, at least I think we didn't, my memories blurred. Towards the end when she got sick I begged God to save her. “Just this once please, I promise I’ll be good, I’ll do better,” I pleaded to him but nothing. She was moved to hospice, apparently she had developed a flesh eating bacteria that would affect her face. The doctor's plan was to cut half of it off, her last words to me were to not let them take her face. I cried and cried and cried, I had never been without my mother. I had become codependent on her presence alone. My father had put me in charge of her medical decisions since she had become unresponsive. I was young and naive, how was I supposed to decide my mothers fate? I sat with her, talked with her. I knew she wasn't coming back but I wasn't ready to be alone even if I still had my father and siblings. They had significant others and children, lives of their own and I somehow remained the same, stuck at home afraid of the world. I didn't want her stuck here like me so I let her go, telling her we’d be fine and I thought we would be but we weren't. We were broken and lost. I foolishly thought my family was safe and perfect but I was wrong. Even now after all these years, after the passing of my mother and father I'm still stuck and alone, afraid of the world but I still believe in her. For putting up with the pain for so many years. For surviving every attempt. For not letting the drugs be her downfall and overcoming them. For taking care of us even after hers will was dwindling.
Settle
I settled for less
because growing up I didn't expect anything but
I had dreams that would only be that
figments of my imagination
I settled for less
because when I tried to succeed
I was reminded where my place was
a background character filling up space
I settled for less
because being alone
was better than being hurt
the countless times I was told I would never be loved
I settled for less
because less is more than I could ever ask for
grateful to have anything to call my own
even if what's mine
has been discarded by everyone else
I settled for less
because I was never taught my worth
made to believe that my values
could be bought
made to believe that my existence was a gift of its own
I settled for less
because what I needed most
was to flourish and grow
but I was confined to a cage inside my mind
sheltered from the outside world
I settled for less
because it's an easy way out
to deprive myself of happiness
of a life I could call my own
to break the bonds that hold me here
I settled for less
because that's what I do
I settle.
Daily Schedule
When you get sick and are told you’re unable to work for the foreseeable future you go through two different reactions.
The first being excited about never having to work again, filling your days with lunches with friends, shopping for unnecessary things you know you'd never really use. Finally getting around to all the projects you put on hold because you were too tired from …..work.
The second reaction is fear. How am I supposed to live off of a savings that resembles that of a child's piggy bank. You would think I would have saved for a rainy day but my pay is below minimum wage and so was my value as an employee but that's neither here nor there. I can't just not work, how am I supposed to….live?
My routine is as follows:
5-6 am I wake up because my body is set to wake up out of habit for work (work which I can't do anymore)
I brush my teeth and wash my face. I make sure to take my first dose of medications.
I'm wide awake so I can't go back to sleep so I watch tv, there’s nothing interesting on so i put Bob’s Burgers on for background noise.
I make a mental list of all things I want to do today, which in reality I might only do two things from the list.
I don't drink coffee or tea so I grab some water and read. What I read doesn't matter, my memory doesn't hold information like it used to.
It's too early to talk to friends ...friends…friend, the only friend I have is on her way to work.
7-8 am I rummage through the kitchen for something to eat but nothing really ever fills me up.
9-10 am I contemplate taking a nap just as the rest of the house is waking up, I'm exhausted and the day hasn't even started.
11-12 am/pm I take my second dose of medications, still nothing on so I turn to youtube to watch conspiracy theories…they’re as predictable as I am.
1-2 pm I take my third dose of medication and decide to paint and work with clay. I don't know how to paint but I try, I have all the time in the world….God willing.
3-4 pm I take my fourth dose of medication and scrounge for something that looks appetizing. My friend’s off work so she calls, there's no time to hang out because she has priorities with family that outweigh girl time. She apologizes and I tell her not to worry because I get it….I get it.
5-6 pm I take my fifth and final dose of medication and make dinner for the family, well my sister and hers anyways. I wash the dishes and clean up my mess. Serving myself a plate of what I chose for tonight's menu.
7-8 pm I write stories I keep hidden because the worlds inside my head aren't meant for the people outside my head. I write poetry that's dark and opposite of what they see when they see me.
9-10 pm I get ready for bed. Scrolling through the tv there's still nothing on so I settle on Bob’s Burgers again, it's become my white noise.
11-12 pm/am I lay in silence, in the dark of night waiting to fall asleep only to start all over again.
Confessions of An Adult
How did I get here? How did I go from the top of my class to the bottom of the barrel at work? Maybe I missed something, maybe this was my punishment for wanting more out of life then to be stuck in a run down town like my mother my whole life. The hours tick by leaving me no time for rest and on the off chance I do get a day off my mind won't let me. I've become an insomniac, keeping odd hours that weigh on my relationship. Why he’s stayed for so long is beyond me. I’ve neglected him, blew off dates and anniversaries. Why he stays, again I don't know. It’s not only him i neglect. My body…..my body cries out in pain each night, signaling for me to stop. I’m a masochist, enjoying the torment inflicted on me. Day in and day out i return for my punishment. Working my way up only to falter and lose my grip on what's worth my time. I choose the hard way, of course I do because I wouldn't have it any other way. My mind is jumbled, mixing my priorities with conformities. Work Days with rest days, overtime with over this. But I’m stuck, this hamster's wheel wont let me off and I run and I run and I run yet I can't seem to get anywhere.
How did I get here? Lost in the dream I was chasing all those years to end up barely living. Catching ZZZ’s is harder than catching cabs but what I really wanted to catch was a cold to slow me down , force me to rest, to not think of anything but sleep and soup and balled up tissues on my bed. Snuggled up in my warm apartment while the reality of the cold hard truth whips its anger on my window outside. I’m sick of adults lying to doe eyed kids full of wonder, telling them that their future is bright. It’s not…it's not. You struggle and break. You cry but there's no mother there to pull you into a hug , wipe away the tears and tell you everything will be alright because the truth is it’s not….it’s not. They lie to your face and tell you you can be anything, anything except happy. You're in a constant battle to stay on top, praised by your peers but as soon as you fall you're all alone to wonder.
How did I get here"
The Cleansing
I could feel their hands all over me
The memory of them
Never leaving me
I was stuck
A constant reminder
That I was theirs
Tethered to them
By this invisible string
Holding me down
I wanted my freedom back
I wanted out
To erase everything
I knew it would hurt
My flesh peeling from my bones
It's the only way I could think of
To permanently remove their touch
To cleanse myself
From bone to flesh
Burn the memory
Of what they've done
One flick of my wrist
The matchstick illuminated
I can feel the heat
Engulfed by flames
Smoke surrounding me
Purifying me of their sins
Who am I?
I was painfully aware
The burden that was placed on me
My future already planned out
Who was I to fight my fate
To go against my father
I could go about my days
Carelessly playing the fool
But I knew I was meant for more To show the world the truth
That salvation is in reach
I would find followers
To help me spread the word
Praying for peace
In a negative world
Fighting against accusations
A false Messiah
But the inevitable would come
I would fulfill my destiny
The day
I would die
For your sins
The Truth
I guess I had them all fooled. They believed I was this sweet and caring person who went out of their way to put everyone first. To tend to the needs of others before I considered my own. It didn't help that I played the part, feeding into their delusions of who they thought I was. I wondered how they would take the news of the real me, the selfish and heartless person that face them. Would they overlook my passed indiscretions, forget about the unforgivable things I have done. Would they still love this person who hates the world? The me who plots the downfall of those around? Would I still be sweet and caring once they found out the truth, that I despised all of them. Suppose they saw that the real me was full of hate and rage, masked by a smile. Little by little I see the truth breaking through the cracks in my lies.
The Combustible High
There's this amped up arousal that ignites this fire inside of you.
It consumes you to the point where you're convulsing.
Your entire body feels like it's about to come undone but you want more of it, you beg for it.
You ride this high that surges through you.
You grasp and cling to anything that will keep you from floating away.
It's as if a thousand tremors vibrate through you.
It's unbearable at times, wanting it to give you a moment of reprieve but it continues to assault you.
It buries itself deep in your core waiting for you to give into it, to give into its control.
You have no choice but to let go.
Your voice unrecognizable as your body shakes from the euphoric pleasure, building up until you spontaneous combust.
The Gift
When you've been beaten and broken down your whole life you tend to stop believing that anything good will come your way. That's not how life works, at least that's what I thought until I met him. He was nothing like how people described him in books or in movies. He wasn't some red horned beast with a tail and pitchfork. He wasn't this intimidatingly good looking man in a dark suit with an ominous aura surrounding him. The Devil came to me in the form of a child, perhaps he knew that I would be more accepting of him if he was a child. I never had the best relationships with adults, they always found a way to hurt me in any way they could.
“I have a present for you.” His voice is calm, comforting.
“Uh..where are your parents? It's pretty late out, you should be at home.” I told him as I looked around thinking this was just some lost little kid.
“What about you, it's pretty late for you to be out at this hour?” I was sixteen at the time and even though technically I was a kid I had obvious reasons why I couldn't go home, not for another four hours anyways. I needed to be sure my father was asleep and he was already on his sixth tall can, his tolerance for alcohol intake was high.
“Regardless, I'm older and it's not safe out here so you need to go. Are you lost, do you need me to call someone for you?” I looked around again to see if anyone might have been looking for him.
“Im alot older than you think. Why do you allow him to hurt you?” The boy asked and I froze.
“Look, whatever sick joke this is, you need to stop and get out of here, it's not funny.” I could feel myself shaking.
“Does it look like I'm laughing?” He handed me a camara, it was old, and an antique.
“What's this, did you steal this?” I looked at him questioningly.
“I know you've been hurting for a while and I'm sorry your prayers have not been answered.”He spoke
“What are you talking about?” It was a coincidence, it had to be.
“He's forgotten you but I haven't. I've watched you, waited for you to call to me.'' I had a million questions running through my mind.
“Look kid, I don't even know your name.” This kid was definitely weird
“You know me, I've come to you before but you've sent me away. He's not coming for you but I have."He placed his hand over mine and I could feel it. His touch was like fire burning but I didn't feel any pain.
“Accept my present and all your pain and suffering will be gone.” It couldn't be him, could it?
“Are you the D…Dev..”
“Yes, do you accept my gift?” His eyes searched for mine.
“What do I have to do….to make it stop? To make him stop.” Nothing had worked in my favor so far so why not, if this was all some sick twisted joke I'd still be in the same place as I am now so why not.
“This camera is very old and dear to me, it has power in it.”
“What kind of power?” I asked curiously.
“The kind of power that makes all your problems disappear.” His tone never changed, always calming.
“Including…?” I couldn't finish, I could feel tears trying to escape.
“Including him. Would that make you happy?” There was a glow to his eyes now and the burning that I felt before was gone now replaced with warmth.
“How? How do I use this power?” I was eager, I wanted it all over with.
“Just take a picture of anyone who's ever hurt you. That photo will be their death.” He smiled almost as if he was excited about this. I suppose I was as well.
“After today you will finally be free and safe, I will always be there whenever you call for me.” He stood, bending down to place a kiss on my forehead.
“He was true to his word, I was finally free from all the pain and hurt and he did come whenever I called to him, always as that child from our first encounter.
Time had passed and I had lived a happy life but I was at my end now and I grew so very tired. I called him but he refused to take me, he had grown too attached to me. He had forgotten that I was made of flesh and blood, that my human self could not live forever. Everytime it was the same, he denied my requests and I stayed and continued to expire. It had been so long since I had used his gift that I had all but forgotten it. It was still as I had remembered it. If he wasn't willing to do it then I'd do it myself. I had made myself presentable to whomever was the unfortunate one of my children or grandchildren to find me. Wrote them notes telling them how much I loved them and an amazing life. I told them not to be sad and to celebrate. Lastly, I told them I was okay that the place I was going had been a source of comfort for me, knowing that I had someone watching and protecting me most of my life, I told them goodbye and that this time I was finally free of everything. I sat the camera up, got into position and *CLICK* The flash was blinding.
“I had a feeling you would do it.” That voice was familiar but it was different.
“Are you..?” He was older now, not the child I was used to.
“I wish you wouldn't have done that.'' I was confused.
“I thought you would be glad to see me.” Although unconventional, I had considered him a friend, stupid I know.
“Do you know why I always disagreed with your requests?” He seemed almost disappointed. I couldn't get my words out, I could only shake my head.
“It's because you can't stay here with me, your soul is pure, you belong up there.” I saw sorrow in him. What have I done?
“But I've been killed. I…live..”
“I told you that camara had powers in it, you might have taken the picture but it all fell on me. I made it so you weren't involved." I don't know how he did it but the camera was now in his hands.
“I want to stay here, I'm safe here.” I pleaded with him.
“I;m going to give you one more gift.” he stood in front of me, now towering my height. I kept my promise and now it's time I set you free.
“I don't want you too, please.” I could taste the tears that fell, I wasn't entirely sure they were just mine.
“I’m grateful for the time we've had and I will always treasure your memory.'' I could feel his lips on my forehead. “Goodbye.” there was a second blinding light that engulfed me.
“She won't remember, like a passing dream. She will only remember the good and I will remember everything.” how could i not while i have her memories and photo with me.
HATE
I hate the word
HATE
It's too severe
Almost final
But that's the way she makes me feel
HATE
I hate her for the way she puts me down
Her backhanded comments
Bruising me
HATE
Her stares that eat at my confidence
Her words
That beat me down
HATE
I’m small and weak
When she's around
I stay silent
HATE
Afraid to anger her
I hide away
Wanting to become invisible
HATE
Invisible to her words
Invisible to my surroundings
Invisible to her
HATE