The picture

I saw a picture of us the other day – smiling and happy. So full of love
As I looked at that picture, I didn’t feel the pain of my broken heart
I didn’t feel the loss I felt for you
I didn’t feel the grief
It was just a picture; A picture from my past
I put the picture in a box with all the other pictures from my past
And then I went on with my life.

I thought

I thought that we were friends

Until you took a sledge hammer to my rose-colored gasses and I finally saw what you think of me.

You see as a dumb person, someone less than you; a circus elephant performing tricks for your enjoyment

I was a true friend to you but now                            I mourn the loss of the friend I thought had.

I hate you dad but ………….

I grew up never really knowing you. You were that man who always beat me for the smallest infraction. So to me you were that monster I hated.

Now years later, I still don’t know and I still hate you.

The other day my father’s best friend told me that I have so many characteristics just like my father. I wanted to punch him in the face!

How dare you say I’m like that stranger, like that man whom I have hated for so long!

Days later, my dad liked my Facebook page for a web series I am working on and it felt good that he had liked the page and written a nice comment.

I suddenly became angry with myself as I realized that I wanted my dad’s approval.

I hate you dad but it seems I am not above wanting your acceptance

I hate you dad……………… but……………………… nope, still hate you!

Here, under my third tree

“This is not a drill, evacuate the building” – a woman’s voice says over the loudspeaker. In case you did not believe it the first time, the woman repeats it again – “This is not a drill, evacuate the building”. We get up from our desks and calmly walk to the nearest staircase in an orderly fashion we make our way outside to our designated point of safety.

I walk to the third tree and sit under it, enjoying the breeze that makes me believe that it is cool out here. Under the shade of the third tree, I watch my coworkers conjugate and talk. I watch a fire truck pass by, horn blasting, lights on and it pulls into our parking lot.

I hear the fire bell screaming in the distance from the office building. I watch cars pass by, some slow down to look at us gathered on the lawn while others drive by without a look. An ambulance appears and goes towards the building but I lose sight of it as it disappears from my view. A police car comes then a second one. Two more fire trucks pull in as I silently watch and write from my seat under the third tree.

The American flag dances with the wind ever so graceful. I look up into my tree, noticing the abundance of green leaves and branches all working together to provide me with my shady spot. My back is supported by my tree’s trunk. I sit and watch. I watch and I sit as I write these words.

An impatient driver blows the horn to let the car in front of him know that he has places to go and people to see right now! I hear the murmur of my coworkers talking and once in a while I hear a cheerful laugh. I cannot make out their words from where I sit but I am comforted by the sound. A plane passes somewhere up there and I wonder where they are going, what is their final destination?

Sitting here under the shade of the third tree, I am content and grateful for this unexpected break in the day that has provided me with the opportunity to take this time and write.

I hope that all is well in the building.

 

In this bed

We made love in this bed,  you proposed in this bed, then you ignored me in this bed. I cried about you for months in this bed hanging onto the smell of you in this bed.

Then I woke up one day in this bed and I smiled, then laughed. I put on new sheets on this bed and I reclaimed this bed.

This is my bed! I sleep diagonally taking up as much space as possible. Wrapped in my sheets warm embrace  I am happy. This bed is worn but still standing. It’s comfortable and looks good with these new sheets.

This is my bed!

In the water

In the water I am free and graceful.                         I forget everything, focusing only on that moment as I float and swim.                                     On land I walk as quietly as a herd of elephants stomping through the forest headed for water In the water, I am a shark, speeding towards my prey, silently and quickly.                                      On land I hit myself on objects and trip occasionally.                                                                 In the water, I am graceful like a ballerina, I turn and flip with ease.                                           On land I am heavy and feel gravity’s hand whenever I do jumping jacks or push ups.         In the water, I leap off the diving board like a gazelle leaping happily across the Serengeti.      I slice through the water decisively with only one goal in mind, to reach the bottom as quickly as possible than back up.                         On land, I breathe heavily as I run trying to catch my breath. I am the slowest runner in my group, way behind the pack.                                      I hold my breath for as long as possible forcing my lungs to work more efficiently than usual.   My head breaks through the water and I take a quick gulp of fresh oxygen before once again disappearing into the world of water.                 On land I sit for hours working in front of a computer                                                                       In the water, I tread water in the deep end, occasionally moving my legs and arms but always keeping my head above the water.         Oh how I wish I could be a mermaid, able to stay under water forever.                                                     I need Ursula to grant my wish.                             In the water I am free and graceful.                       In the water is where I want to be.

Her

With that one kiss I stopped my nervous chatting, heart pounding, unsure and wanting that kiss to never end.                                                   Soft lips on mine, making me forget everything  No labels just that kiss, wanting to just be in the now, with you.                                                         My body pressed against hers, so similar but different. I want to go back to that moment, our kiss, our perfect kiss. The time before the first time you questioned if I could commit to just you. Not because I did something but because there was that looming possibility that I could leave you for a him or another her. I tried to reassure you that I was here with you at this moment, ready to see where this could go. But with every disagreement you brought it back to that possibility. Didn’t you see that I liked you and just wanted to be with you because you are amazing. I broke up with you and it hurt me to ignore your calls and texts but I know that we fit together but just not a perfect fit. So I let you go because I cared for you and I want you to find your perfect fit. I miss you but I did the right thing.

Good bye sweet her.

Uncle 5.13.2016

Today I learned that you died. After weeks of being haunted by unseen people who you were asking for forgiveness from. And a few years of battling that disease.

At least now you will no longer be able to hurt other little girls.

Today I realized that I no longer hate you. My hate for you slipped away a year ago around the time I began therapy and finally dealt with everything.

I feel nothing for you now but I do not like seeing my mother’s pain as she mourns for her brother and my grandmother’s pain as she mourns for her son.

I will pray for the other little girls, may they find the strength within to deal with this and be happy in their lives.

The hate in my heart is gone and I shall think of you no more

Good bye Uncle.

Papa cut my hair

Papa cut my hair.                                                     And I had to go to school that day

Papa cut my hair because I cried                        And I was completely bald

Papa cut my hair because I cried when mama would straighten it.                                              I cried as my hair fell on the ground because I would become an outsider at school again

Papa cut my hair because I cried when mama would straighten it and my crying woke him up I walked into my third grade class wearing a baseball cap hoping that I could be invisible

Papa cut my hair because I cried when mama would straighten it and my crying woke him up so he took his hair clippers.                            Teacher told me to take my hat off.                         I took it off reluctantly, my eyes downcast, praying for the earth to open up and swallow me whole or become invisible whichever was easier for the Lord to do, I’m not picky Lord!

Papa cut my hair because I cried when mama would straighten it and my crying woke him up so he took his hair clippers and quickly ran it through my hair.                                                         At lunch, D.C. asked what happened to my hair. I told him I had cancer and I ran into the bathroom.

Papa cut my hair because I cried when mama would straighten it and my crying woke him up so he took his hair clippers and quickly ran it through my hair leaving me completely bald.     In the bathroom, I cried, dreading having to face D.C. and my laughing classmates. My ears rang with their loud imagined laughter.

Papa cut my hair because I cried when mama would straighten it and my crying woke him up so he took his hair clippers and quickly ran it through my hair leaving me completely bald, I cried and cried.                                                         Eventually I walked out of the bathroom and D.C. was waiting. He offered me an orange, took my hand and we went to play.

Papa cut my hair because I cried when mama would straighten it and my crying woke him up so he took his hair clippers and quickly ran it through my hair leaving me completely bald, I cried and cried and silently promised to never cry in front of Papa again.                                       No one talked about my hair because of D.C. and I loved him with all my heart that day.

Papa cut my hair.