Category: poetry
She was the bottom.
She was the bottom. The one that finally held up a mirror and I remember sitting on the cement floor, in the garage and staring into the bottom of the glass, knowing I was done.
I would never tell her this… because she would think it was her fault and I would never want her to carry the burden. If anything, I am thankful. She was only the reflection- the final broken piece of the mirror, and I know now that rock bottom isn’t really a bottom–
it’s a mirror.
It’s the moment where you truly see who you have become and where you’re going so clearly. I was looking into her face and hearing her words– so angry and judgmental and hurtful and I recognized parts of myself in her. It was an incredibly sad moment of reckoning–
A reckoning on a cold cement floor, 3 bottles of wine deep, watching your soul leave your body temporarily, allowing the demons in… the black and white checkered floor became a reflection of my own struggles and when I sat, looking through the smoke filled haze that resembled oil meeting water in my mind…
THERE’S THE LINE. I can see it so clearly now…
I cannot exist in both.
I cannot exist in both.
I cannot exist in both.
maybe the answers never come?
Every time the cosmos shift, I start seeking the answers to us.
I plant my feet in the sand and as I look up,
I close my eyes for a second,
I like the moonlight on my face.
I see our futures so clearly intertwined,
I love you so fearlessly and unconditionally yet,
I wonder how I can feel so full of fire for you,
yet, unattached.
Have I grown independent from this time apart
or has my heart expanded enough to allow love,
in all its various forms,
to come in?
I think of you now and I feel a warmth,
A security that I’d been craving…
wanting for us.
I have sought out the crash of the waves and
the energy of the moon
for as long as I can remember,
Even though I know it doesn’t have the answers,
only lessons.
And aren’t we just here to make mistakes and learn lessons?
And maybe if we illuminate our hearts enough,
we can start building the next evolution of “us”-
one where multiple realities don’t play out in my head
and it’s you and me,
around the fire,
recommitting to us–
burning old bridges,
so together,
we can rise.
To my mother-
My mom taught me what
patience looks like.
That fight or flight isn’t
always an option and
that standing your ground
even quietly
is still honoring yourself.
She always made sure I
valued everything I had
and appreciated still moments
and the company of myself.
She showed me that being
pretty and privileged
deserved my own sense of
modesty but with an assertiveness
and presence that demanded I
knew how to flatter and withdraw
from compliments and advances
simultaneously.
She taught me to be direct
and clear about what I want
otherwise people would only
choose for me.
“Don’t put your elbows on the table”
“Chin up”
“A daisy and I thought of you…”
“The world doesn’t owe you anything.”
When I went through my first
serious “life changing moment”
at 17,
she taught me
not to be a victim.
She showed me vulnerability
wasn’t weakness but in fact,
quite the opposite.
When I would call in tears
asking how to move forward
she’d say, “just do it baby!”
As an adult, I think the
most important lessons
she’s taught me
are about love.
My parents love has never
has never been perfect,
as none is, with a series
of almost crumbling moments.
But she showed me that love
is meant to be fought for,
that falling in love
is the easy part
and that sometimes “fighting”
means giving up,
so that you can take care
of yourself first.
I know how lonely we
all feel sometimes, but I learned
that when lonely,
I was only searching for myself.
I learned that home wasn’t always
a house with 4 walls,
but sometimes,
it’s a person.
My mom has always
been “home”
to my father,
my brother,
and I.
She has kept the balance
in the family
when there was chaos.
She has chose positivity
instead of negativity
while the rest of us
wavered.
And she has snapped
with kindness
and a fire in her eyes
like that of an alpha female
when her pack and cubs
were negligent
with their emotions
love
time
or peace.
I only know the strength and
ferocity and love of a mother
by watching my own.
And although I do not have
the motherly instinct
or desire for motherhood
I am a better damn woman
by learning how to harness
all that is feminine about me
with class but
also with a rage that says,
“don’t fuck with me because
I come from a long line of
women that didn’t shut up
or stand down
or be quiet.”
And I am not here to be ignored,
I am here to be understood.
I thank my mother for that.
I didn’t think I’d be this girl
I didn’t always think I’d be this girl.
I had this idea of constant evolution
which we are, aren’t we?
Constantly evolving?
I thought I’d eventually evolve into
the person I was meant to be,
leaving behind all the pain.
Thinking the unfinished business
would turn itself into eventual awareness.
Not realizing that I had to do the work.
Not realizing that happiness has to be maintained.
It isn’t a state of arrival where
you coast once you’re there.
There is no finish line.
Love her anyways.
She captivates you. She fills you up and she frustrates you. How does she do that? How is something so beautiful so infuriating simultaneously? How can she be both at the same time? It’s too intense sometimes, the range of emotions. Her touch lingers on your skin long after she removes her fingers from your thigh. And those eyes! Those eyes that say so much pain still exists in the world, but that shine with a brightness that knows how to heal it.
Understanding
Last night we fought
again.
How can we not fight?
When there’s so much love there
that it yanks me out of my comfort zone,
when every inch of my being couldn’t
love you any more
than I already do.
When we fight and I scream
because I’m overwhelmed
because sometimes
we don’t understand eachother.
We are so stubborn
the two of us,
that it could shake worlds apart
like I’m being torn from my own body.
Loving you is
all of the emotions I’ve ever had
coming to me all at once.
And when I collapse
on the sidewalk
in your arms,
it’s not because I’m angry.
It’s because
i’m not used to
not being in control
of my emotions.
You leave me speechless.
When we misunderstand eachother
whether culturally,
emotionally,
spiritually,
my soul breaks with
the misunderstanding.
Because it is so important to me,
to us,
to be understood.
That when we’re not,
it tears us apart
like the universe
is eating us whole.
Understanding will take us time.
But I can promise you
that I’ll fight alongside you.
Because we’re warriors baby,
and nothing is more tragic
than regret.
The Rambling Mermaid 