Archive for the ‘brother’ Category

i knew this would come

stifled by the space

and darkness

familiar streets

the same old faces haunting the same old haunts

blocks i could circle with my eyes closed

the heaviness

the sadness

the cheese in the acme rat trap

i am not here

though my fingerprints scar the neighborhoods and predictable street signs

i never was here

she was me but i was not her

and here i am

unable to fill her shoes

and unwilling

smothered by the need to drive and “find something to do”

knowing the steps to its funeral march

i am paralyzed by my coordinates

suffocated regrets of never leaving and always returning

i am not her

yet it cleverly calls her name

and the emptiness in my heart

is programmed to respond

sinking before you learn to swim
crashing before you learn to fly
defying reality in hopes to control
or prayer to be swept away
outer body out of your mind
delicious sleep just never comes
forced to instinct you sink
how could you know anything else?
eyes and heart battle scarred
you disappear
inside of you
no longer in me
its death a wilting
no pomp just circumstance
distance perceived as shrinking
all is heavy
all is dark
truth evident in the temperature
cold and invisible it consumes you
you are not here
youve faded
slipping through the hand extended
fingers missing that touch of life
as blackness grows strong
the light now extinct
memories
hopes
givens
promises
sunrises
smiles
faith
truth
gone
all gone
without explanation or justice
eyes turned to the away i must walk to
drowned in their own tears
i am not here

DOB

Posted: April 30, 2012 in brother, destiny, family, golden rule, grass is greener, love, me, rant

Being 38 years old and childless, there is a chasm between myself and mothers. My not being a mother was a choice regarding birth control for health that spanned decades and became a choice regarding my present and my future. Ask me today, I’d still have the 5 kids I wanted at 20, if I could.

I noticed the difference in me with my own mother first. My adulthood marked the beginning of her failing to relate to me. At 17, she was a high school drop out, a mother, and the wife of a 21 year old ginger haired musician. By 20, she lost her own mother. We hit the wall on demographic commonality before I had sex for the first time. But me, I never stopped looking for it. Or craving it. Empathy.

As my friends began having kids, there’s that phase of baby doll dress up, baby daddy drama, and them realizing the golden age of the mythical stay at home mom had ended. They were more tired than I was. Their financial resources went elsewhere. I felt like a braggart with my bars, boyfriends, nights in the city and 12 noon alarm clock setting.

Friends married, produced more spawn, I had a miscarriage. Friends divorced, remarried, more kids. I moved back home, switched jobs, suffered depression and often felt I was just surviving.

My brother married before me. Within a year, almost to the date, he had a daughter, my niece. I’ve never really told anyone in my family, but it took me 6 months to feel connected to her. Even through some testing and a trisomy scare, I was unaffected, apathetic and surprised at my personal coldness. She wasn’t mine in any way. And she surely wasn’t that baby that would’ve been her 8 year old cousin.

As I dated into my 30s,and saw my brother’s world and marriage unravel, I  saw parenthood in a whole new light, a masculine light. I saw my brother, a few boyfriends suffer the absence of their children. It was devastating. Their identity was replaced by their position as appointment keeper and automatic teller machine. Their children would cohabitate with strange, adult men that they didn’t approve. The women they dated, including myself, were judged as over bred harlots, or unequipped lowerings of the survival of the fittest, too flawed to breed.

My mind is now clouded by two decades as a spectator in the world’s failings and successes in parenthood. Yet every child that passes me, catches my eye. Every child I share words with or run my hesitant fingers over in moments of “they’re so cute” burn my heart and the cavity inside me that’s laid dormant for so long. I never made a decision that I didn’t want to be a mother. I never judged you if you did. The only thing that I decided, was that I wouldn’t become a jaded mother or grandmother. That means I’ll make my decision when I have a formidable partner I am looking forward to making that decision with. If that never happens, it wasn’t my life’s plan. I see 20 kids a day I can smile at, be kind to and preserve the Earth for. Don’t pity me. But don’t expect me to pity the plight you may have in being a parent. I won’t be jealous. I’ll just keep doing what I do. The world needs the childless just as much.

PRO-Life

Posted: January 26, 2011 in alone, brother, clarity, confusion, destiny, facts, hope, love, me, parents, pro life, rant

Age 11 was the year my value and ignorance began to deteriorate

I realized my teenage parentage

As well as their strife

I came from sex

Love was a topic to be learned

Belief I was wanted…

Yet to be determined

I know for a FACT, I love

I know I have choices

I know I fit somewhere

Familiar punishment is weighted by how well our families ACT

I was given a brother

He decided I should give myself to his lineage….azzy

and accept his falling in love…again

He gave me a niece

He gave me those amazing other girlies

I am so far from my cocoon

Yet always in the pupa

Each day I redecide my gangster

How much can one accept, claim and fight in one day

Each day I wake alone

Each day I sleep alone

Details thus far, aside from my topic…dont count

I was born onto two people

Two people created a girl…

Divided

By the numbers and facts

So here I am

A 2fer

The WORST and BEST thing that has happened to you…

At any given time

Did you say something?

I thought you asked me something…

No?!?!

Hmmm…

Then pardon my answer

Guess I always wanted to be asked.

i will ignore the fact that my mom ignores my connection to my brother. he is me and i am him. he is funnier than shit. i fear and love when he requires me. you just dont share a bunk with anyone…in the days that dont ask dont tell didnt exist. my dna denies me being more connected to anyone. he is my hero and villian. i love fighting about who loves eachother more. im here for a few days. im gonna rub some lotion on his bosses grey bush ass and get a haircut. then imma hug that fucker til he tells me all the things i never want to hear. hes on board with the writing deal. i am committed to being his hype man. dear andy: i love your brain. we survive. kudos. you ARE my favourite person. all is well. i know where my people are…HERE! it doesnt get any whiter.

on nye my brother was funny.

he is the funniest man alive.

i miss that!

my ex even burned me by agreeing to what i know to be true.

that fucker is funny!

funnier than i could ever be!

i will never love anyone  more than my brother.

and i will never be funnier ❤

he is beautiful.

he is smarter than you know.

he will always be closest to me.

he gives me the best babies.

i am going to shut up about how much i love my brother.

as i go on…

how i love him so.

how he knows when im down.

how he makes me know im loved.

he loves me.

he is my hero.

he is why i live.

he makes me think of my death.

i hope im first.

i will never leave him.

he will never leave me.

we are perfect.

nobody gets it.

but i do.

hes why i exist.

**tucks  myself in waiting to be in the same house again**

all i need to do is love him.

and so i yawn…