Category Archives: Fragments

Fragment -3.99

When they said she might be bipolar it all made sense.

One full day of hospitals.

More hatred than I could imagine from my own kid.

The one I had sacrificed for, spoiled, given everything to, the one I wore the same clothes to give to for at least 5 years.

The one who would never let me comfort her. The one I couldn’t help with bike riding. The one that outright lies for no reason about a teacher not letting her eat lunch when she’s 7.

The one that’s told me how to mother her, her entire life.

I thought it was my fault anyway.

Until the medical professionals started looking at me like Frankenstein because my daughter just swallowed 75 of her Ritalin pills.

Now,

She’s something else.

A different disorder.

But she’s got her therapist around her finger because damn is she good at that.

I’m just different.

Different with her, with my son,

My family,

Just less of something I cannot ever put into words.

It’s mostly war and quiet and tired mixed with it all. Whatever it is.

I’m not sure it gets better.

You get used to a certain level of the misery though according to some psychologist comedian.

So there’s that.

I just constantly hope that I can learn to not be like every other mother and keep my happiness disproportional to hers directly.

I remember the physicist.

He said his daughter was 35,

And it was another boy too,

It was the 8th stent since 15.

And I remember the feeling of actually not having to dumb my words down to have a conversation. Or having to sugarcoat anything. Or having to pretend I even cared to fit into a society that didn’t help any of the four of us before then. One that probably led to it all anyway.

I’m reading all the books he recommended now.

And it’s just statistics despite the advertising on the cover. Things I can do for myself.

Basically,

I just got this roll and it’s mine to roll with too.

I do get the occasional entertainment of watching men lose their minds over her.

Yes, she’s absolutely gorgeous, mostly nice when she wants something or attention, but batshit, her sperm donor is a military ballistics psychopath, she’s warp the entire rest of your life manipulative, never be satisfied, controlling, hoarder from my mother crazy. Good luck to you brother.

Me,

I’m her mother. I get the limited really good days by default.

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Fragment Flying 1.0

I don’t want to burden anyone with the weight of love anymore.

Caring for a minimum of 18 people a day does not allow much left to give.

How could I be anything but too much and not enough simultaneously?

How would I be anything more than Saturnine the days I should have slept more?

I’d love to be a second sun instead, leaving beams for reflection instead of all this lead swirled with flammable gases.

But it’s winter in my marrow sometimes, instead of some light to fade the rain.

And all of my words trying to sustain life before the rings of my discontent cost me all of it, forever.

Maybe I just need someone to hibernate with during the right seasons.

Fragment 34

A large inch sliver of my wedding ring finger,

Lodged between razor blades.

A tinge of excruciation every time I bump it.

The blood that doesn’t stop until I seal it with the sting of black powder potassium ferrate.

And I get home to the internet connection again for the first time in 12 hours to claws again.

I’m stuck with nothing to say.

Stuck not explaining or caring.

Wedged between the commonality and the opposites

Trapped wondering if I should even bother because there’s a million other places and people calling me.

Tied living in doubt of my accuracy.

My bed seems closer,

Yet, less comforting and less confusing.

I just want to show someone all the places Eden hides.

Introduce someone to all the one of a kinds.

My words hang like gallows being near another slice of flesh today and how much more that imaginary one will out do the real one.

An eraser or a pen, a conversation or an idea, a rough beginning or premature end,

And a wheel of fortune spins.

Maybe I’ll buy a better body like every other American,

A new front door,

Then let just pretty fleeting things grace my floor.

Or

Perhaps I’ll just lie on the soaked ground until this expired body finally lets my electricity go or I turn into a mountain.

Fragment -2.4

There was a time I would chase you.

One where I’d want to win so much I’d fold all my pieces I can tell you would adore before peacocking around in displays of a lesser love.

I’d flirt like an Eames Era harlot, victim, or assassin depending on the best to suit you.

These falseness fangs allude me most days now.

I’m tired.

More human than ever.

And it just doesn’t interest me really. Not quite like getting to know someone’s bones or celebrating their victories over their loses.

It’s left me on other planets.

Or swimming in tesseracts far from the fingerprints of such a vain instant gratification world.

Ultimately,

Left me in such solitude, I already so greatly admire and adore, I may just dissipate much like I appear.

So I leave it to everyone else to ask about what they need to know about me before just flittering back to the places stars are born.

I used to care about this more too.

I’d feel bad about owing someone something for their time or attention.

But it’s beyond me lately.

It’s my hair I’m growing to several feet of length for other dues or dedications.

It’s the only thing I can do after work for other people anymore.

Fragment 30.3

Too many choices make me nauseated.

At the end of the day I’m going to choose my children first.

I owe them.

I made them. Kept them. My duty to keep them.

My career.

A lot of people depend on me, including my aging family.

I owe them also.

They keep me soft, taught me love, and make it worthwhile.

My career is attached to my deep seeded altruism.

It’s the art I’m living.

And I took an oath.

A real one with 150 of my classmates.

I’m not going to waiver, ever.

Not even if it’s killing me.

Ask my angry, pain laden knee.

I’m stern about these things if necessary.

It’s never about anything but those things first.

I have no needs that are as important as this.

I have very few needs other than the smiles my precious littles carry because I kiss them before bed every night.

If you’re interested, be patient or choose the blonde instead of this brunette.

I’m incapable of giving those two things up.

I tried once,

Almost took my soul as penance.

If you have none,

I’m definitely made of nothing to see here, move along kindly.

And I whole heartedly am sorry and not at the same time.

Maybe I’m just like my father,

Just like my mother.

Fragments: Floating 1.0

Somehow,

I believe he holds all his favorite skylines in the recesses of his heart

A safe vibrant, little, large, brilliance given away by his laughter.

So, the clovers rise from beneath the cool earth.

I wait for the roses that grow from his sorrows, his doubts, his overthinking,

his words, his hold, his holy grins….him.

Fragment 30.0

He said was married for a long time,

Searching my eyes for a flickering flight.

Another time and his eyes would have melted every inch of my smile.

Any other time his body would have been a welcome visitor of beds between stop lights and stories of nights passed by.

But all that’s left of me,

Is just a fight to survive.

A long roadside explosion

Leaving next to nothing behind.

There are hours,

Days,

Years behind,

With a skip left to climb.

It’s looming so heavy,

Like my frame once had,

Like the 70 hour work weeks of the last 2 months have.

But it’s the year of the earth dog and I’m going to learn to swim in the serendipity again.

With the animals that know death is a figment because consciousness is bigger than that, the people that figure it out, and the scientists closer to proving it today ❤️

Fragment 29.444

Valentine’s for me isn’t about romantic love. I met my friend turned sister at a tragic comedy play after break ups at 15. It’s our 20th this year. What unique perspective it gives the Saint consumers holiday to say the least. This is life’s humor, life’s end game, the personal perspectives hidden behind more than what people think.

Even not here,

I wish you a thankful 20th on this rock of sorrow filled, comedic perpetuity. Our laughter, healing salve for hopefully another 70.

May it be whatever you need it to be, even celebrating this one with me ❤️