I wasn't born alone,
my Mother was with me
from the very beginning.

I held my Mother's hand
as she died last year,
my first person.

Merely existing now,
I lived to make her
proud.

-

Escape right here right now.
To go somewhere else with someone else. To let them take me where they are, safely, in the comfort of the nook I curl up in .

Take you with me. Safely.

-

So many people have an opinion, an order, suggestions, a relatable story, a proverb, a solution, but,
Not when I ask what to do, how to live, when my brother died.
8 months later, who wants to help me survive my Mother?
Tell me now how.
You tell me how and how not to live, tell me now how.
How?

-

Shut the fuck up with that "don't say that" crap.
Leave me be if you don't want to hear me.
I don't care.
I don't want to be here, so DIE is the only option I know.
SHUT UP I said! You don't even know what DIE is.
You've got an opinion. You even have an opinion about my opinion. You have an opinion about my opinion about MYSELF!
This is a fact.
Now shut the fuck up and leave me be.
You don't want me and I don't want any parts of you.

-

I will be truth.
I will be passion.
I will sit still.
I will be loud.
I will cause scenes.
I will say nothing.
I am an example.
I will gladly share my nightmare with you.
I will do my best to dedicate the rest to harming you.
I won't get what I deserve.
Grace is not fair, why would the word exist if it isn't real?
How many more are there?

-

So many thoughts
My younger self
Memories
Consecutive days of breaking night
Grief
Sadness, 900,633,230,501 tears
Determination, Anger
Eye squinting, stomach hurting, doubled over laughing
having Multiple abortions
My still birthed child whom I wouldn't hold but retracted my
refusal to see and made myself
lay eyes on. The children I birthed and
raised only to watch be taken away,
held hostage by government
slaves then relatives who
call themselves "family".
my oldest describing
themselves victims of abuse
suffering from Stockholm Syndrome,
My youngest one close enough to see
while still out of reach, asking to be with me quietly
in mumbles and whispers,
So loudly in my dreams while I sleep.
My Mother, first person I'd meet,
last person she sees,
Me.

-

11:13

All alone now, over 24 hours my Mother's body cold and alone.
The first person I've ever known.
Mommy.
Mommy!
Mommy.
Are you home?
I want to go home and get in bed
with you with a foil laced basket of homemade popcorn fresh
and warm from the cast iron skillet I've known since I was born. I only knew you, our skillet, pots and pans, wooden spoons, vases, pussy willows, eucalyptus in the bathroom. The sink where you bathed me until my knees became scrunched up and you introduced me to the tub. The sink where you washed and conditioned my hair before tear free shampoos which you wouldn't have bought with it not being Nature's Own. Close your eyes worked just as well for us both.
When I shower now, I can rarely barely keep both eyes closed for fear of being vulnerable, only you could keep me safe and secure.
Alone in this world now without Mommy over 24 hours long.
Where did you go Mommy?
Did you go home?

-

Ourselves from being responsible,


Truth, reality, and Love.

-

I can stop fighting,
begging, planning,
attempting to have you say anything.
I could mend my need
to heal by knowing.
I could forgive, forget, remember, let go,
use this pain for the betterment of so many
things. I could create
a safer space to begin a new with you.
I could learn from the past
and learn from you what I don't want to do.
Instead I'll hunt your family one by one
And damage them all
in the most alarming way
until I'm done,
when their pain
hurts you so bad
that your echos of grief stricken regrets
are met by
the ripples of cries
from my lingering pain.

-

Fear and anxiety
More.
I am running towards
The past
Less.
I sit and spend a moment in the present.
Feeling
Not being
Lost, lonely, alone, all by myself.
I'm tired.
Walking toward the unknown.

-