She’s a writer,
ponderer of sorts.
leaving people guessing,
something she has been known to have done before.
tries her best to keep her composure-
not many people truly know her.
Starving for understanding,
thirsting for a friend to share common ground with.
can’t get up,
bed all day she stays,
prays that such a friend exists.
What Will be Will be
A whole new life, a whole new surrounding, a whole new way of thinking and interceding for for this other person. Detachment but still care, worried yet at peace. Confused yet full of clarity. Grieving... loss of relationship and loosening my grip. Saying goodbye to what once was and warming up to the idea of what will be.
Life is difficult, sniffle filled, mind destressed
But I’m still blessed
Sorrow, guilt, shame, along with having to uproot and begin again
There’s so much to life who could know
Be kind to yourself and let that grow
Without self love I would fall back into that pit again
But with strength and not that of myself I begin a new.
Healing isn't stealing away the life you've known but gaining another perspective and is interjective in a way that is crucial to becoming someone with a healthier perspective. Dont stunt your growth and refuse and do the opposite or life will be harder than ever necessary. Breathe, take a step forward and listen to that still, small voice deep within you...that will steer you back home and back to who you were created to be.
Are You Proud
The minute they cry and their hearts beating next to mine, I'm proud
the first steps
Wherever they go in life its up to them
The good, the bad, whatever there is to be had
They could move half a world away and my love for them would still remain the same
We all need that loving support and to be upheld like never before
To my future kids, I will always be there and tell you that your life is significant
I will build you up and cheer you on-- from the big things to the little things and everything in between
You will never have to wonder where we stand or try to make me proud--
Because I will always tell you
Shoulder to cry on
person to talk to
You can tell me your deepest darkest secrets and I won't judge you
You are my child and I, your mom
Out With A Bang
Dreams, they are what give us hope and yet leave us feeling hopeless all at one time. My imagination, hopes and dreams always get the best of me...but they’re all I have while living here on the streets. As long as I can remember its been like this and no matter the situation I would cling to some unlikely happening, knowing the likelihood of it ever coming to fruition. My name is Alexander Hernandez, I was born Septemeber 7th of 2001 and this is my story:
I never knew my parents. I was eight months old when the terrorists attacked the empire state building that frightful day in September. My mother had just gone back to work at my fathers firm two months prior, they were both lawyers. I was cared for by a nanny everyday after my parents left for work. When they never came back for me I was placed in an orphange and later foster home to foster home. My Great Aunt Evelyn is the only relative that ever reached out to me, she visited me while I was still a young boy in that orphanage. She was a sickly woman, when she would visit there would always be a helper right by her side. I would hear stories of how proud she was of my parents and the life they both lived. My moms laugh that would fill a room and my dads friendly but professional manner he had about him. I truly felt like I knew them. If I close my eyes and think hard enough; there they are. Every Sunday evening I looked forward to when Auntie Evelyn would make her appearance. When the visits came to a screeching halt I knew something must have happened to her. I was only 10yrs old...
Fast forward eight years, I turned 18 and knew not what was to become of me. Once my foster family stopped recieving a check from the government for me--I was of no use to them. I packed what little I had in a trashbag and was on my way. Where I was going I had no clue. Making a life for yourself in New York City with no previous working history, no education, and no means of transportation left me with no real life to call my own but only that of survival mode. Park benches on a clear night and enclosed slides on rainy...I had many spots all together I would go to sleep. As for food, I would rummage a resturants trash cans after they would close every night. Any extras they didnt serve got thrown in the back alley dumpster. After three months of being on the streets I got my first job as a dishwasher at a bar and grill on the bad part of town. It was only part time with 15hrs a week but it gave me money to buy food and a tent to sleep in at night. Life was finally starting to look up...fast forward yet another year and my place of employment closed for it’s doors due to a pandemic, Which brings me to current day:
MARCH 25TH, 2O2O
The whole city is shut down and word on the street was all the homeless in NYC are to be sent to a camp, what kind I’m not sure. Im writing this as I’m riding in what looks to be a prison bus yet none of us are prisoners. There’s an eery feeling in the air (am I the only one to sense somethings not right?)
He drops his pen and stares at the ceiling of the bus silently praying for his suspicions to not be true. When they arrive theres nothing in sight and his heart starts beating so fast he lost count. The driver orders for all of them to get off the bus. At this point many are rallying and refusing to get off the bus, and the man at the wheel grabs an AK47 and uses force...one man was shot and the rest followed through and complied. As soon as they got off the bus the driver sped away and left us for dead in the middle of no where. The homeless were not the governments top priority, low on the todem pole they fell. It was getting to be evening time and Alexander knelt down and fell asleep underneath a tree. When he awoke he was in a massive lab and was hooked up to machines so big they filled the room. Confused he found a binder and he began to read, it said that he was chosen out of his group that was left there that day. It said that he was going to be one of many people to be injected with the worldwide virus and he may or may not survive. He stopped reading and dropped the binder on his lap, thats when he noticed symbols and abbreviation A51 and then it hit him, he was a test subject at the most top secret headquarters for the United States--Area 51.
Just The Way I Am
You talk like you know me
and treat me like a fool
I’m sorry I could never be super "cool”
Maybe I’m too odd,
maybe too strange,
maybe I’m too weird for all of your friends
Dorky glasses and a cheesy smile
Likes to be social and talk for a while
...embarress you I did for simply being me
I wont apologize because I’m happy and will continue to be unashamedly me.
- He Went -
There once lived a very smart young man who exceeded everyones expectations...he was bright and seemingly conceeded but deep down he was filled with doubt that somehow his efforts (although exquisite) were never enough. Top of his class, The top scholar he was and good at anything you could possibly think of, even had a 401k and had his hands in the stocks. Handsome to most peoples standards, He could get any girl he wanted and go to any school around. The way he had built his life thus far would make you think that he had the perfect life and that he was the happiest man alive. He had money, popoularity, almost unlimited knowledge to the human standard, and seemed to be happy but what everyone else didn’t know was that his childhood haunted him at night. Thoughts of neglect of a mother and nurturing he never got, and raising of a father that never gave him a shot. Tried to solve the family’s problems and make things better but the more and more he tried the deeper the wound got. A little boy just wanted a family that felt whole again and parents that lovingly were there for him. Persistant he was and the more he tried the colder his heart got. He shut himself off to nurture and care and figured if others didnt want him that there’s no use there. Focused he became on making himself great in order to prove that they made a mistake. Even with all his accomplishments up to this day he never could get them to change their ways... so in turn secretly depressed he became. Thoughts of never being enough filled his mind and made it so crippling he would sometimes cry and made him write a note one night that said:
I’m sorry I could never give you guys what you wanted for a son.
I’ve tried to become what the world might deem the. perfect. son...
Over the years I have given my all to fix what is broken between us all.
I feel so empty, I hope you understand why and that it makes sense.
I wanted a mom and I wanted a dad...I wanted a life with loving parents that loved me for just simply being theirs...”
He knew it was pointless and crumpled the paper, and decided he would keep trying until he was something far even greater. Still the same vicious cirle he would encompass and no one would ever know the deep dark secrets he held within... But still he went...