Drunk and all alone

And it does not matter, at least not now.

The shattering moment by an unknown assailent
innocence lost
friendships betrayed

when I started this journey
it was so important to be heard
to have another pity me for how i hurt
And To be selfish every moment because I was a horrible person.

but then I grew
it became more important
to feel what you felt
to boost your self esteem
to be there for you.
to help
to be with
to try
to honestly care

Honestly care

Honestly

It does not matter now!

I tried,  tried so hard and so may times
tried to be good
tried to be true

when you called  me at 2am stranded, I was your first call,
and  I thank you all from the bottom of my soul for trusting me.

I have spent so many hours and have
grown so much to be who I am today

I am human and have my problems, but I tried

tried
Tried to fix them
Tried to be at peace with them
tried to put them aside,....

Put my problems aside because I hoped I could turn my life around

Put my problems aside because, although I did not know there would be a you in my life,

I knew you needed someone to listen to you,
and help you,
guide you,
or just be with you when you did not want to be alone.

i have hours of navigating through peoples problems late at night and early in the morning in so many different coffee shops, just because that is the time someone needed a friend to talk to.

I think people called me because they knew i would answer,
knew i cared and
knew they could trust me,

funny, "trust me" is 3000 miles away from where I started my adult life.

Some people saw the journey and hold my past against me,
some only know me now and can't believe how messed up I was.

most people, I think,,.. I hope... are Okay with who I am today.

but all  my insecurities still haunt, and  I wonder, ....
if there is anyone,.. I can call at 2:am when  I need to talk. ....?

but that does not matter now

and my journey from 3000 miles ago to now does not matter.

Because,

because, In the time it takes to jump to conclusions, or
Place a phone call, or

in the shattering moment that it took  the drunk to run a red light and crash into my car.

I..

I, am now dead,
and,
and my dear friends,
I have died all alone.

the clock turns 11 minutes into a month

And the stark reality is i am lying.

11 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

I live in my world of art, but my art is shades of white.

I say the hard surface of my art are not shades of white but a beige color, juxtaposed the white walls.  And the wool, sparingly strewn to only the upper corner is a natural white, which is not quite beige, and certainly not white.

13 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

And the broken shards of my art on the ground are not white either.

I am lying.  They really are shades of white.

I live in a state of emptiness that I have created, and don't know if I want to escape.

my shades of white are just a way to make you think I am okay.

I am okay because my art can mean, to you, that I live in the light,

White is Light, .... right?

I am lying to myself that the white "I create"  is light.

17 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

Light is such a happy place, full of warmth and love.

Warmth and love, like from a mom

my mom's love shown with exactness and rigidity.
and her warmth is like hot soup on a 110 degree day.

mom's love full of condescending tones and words of intolerance.
and warmth is the lesson, my scarred hand remembers all to well about how the stove can sear your flesh.

23 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

so my hard surfaced art is unyielding and when pushed to hard breaks leaving shards on the floor.

11 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

I look at my watch and see it has been 11 minutes, and I jot it down, I will need to know this.

But maybe it is too late,.....

I, now a month ago, decided that I am Okay and do not need the highly conditional love from my mother, but now every show on TV and conversation I hear is about mothers.

.
.
.


A month ago it started,
-- I did not call her, for one day -  I always needed to call her, she did not call me.

Somehow the phrase "the phone works both ways", never entered her mind, when it came to me........

 She knew how to use a phone to call her friends.

She knew how to use a phone to call my sibling.

So one day a month ago I did not call her.

7 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

the first day was hard, not because of love, but because of habit.

By day four, I felt my heart sink a little, and decided to let the silence exist.

Let the silence exist

The rigidity of our love, would surly survive a few days, and I, like her, know how to be resolute and unyielding.

Day ten was a Sunday, a holy day for some.
For some families they have rituals like "big breakfast",or "football", or "laundry day"-

For me day ten was the second Sunday not interrupted by a two hour long, one sided conversation that leaves me feeling insecure, incompetent and depressed.

a mom's love shown by pointing out all the mistakes I made the previous week, comparing me to everyone else she knows, belittling the only thing in life that lets me be me.
and a warmth that is the ice cold exhale of  disapproval, when I try to defend myself from her emotional assaults.

29 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

Today is a month later and she has not called me, my sibling ask whats up, but I say nothing.

They would not understand that for me the phone does NOT work both ways.


Today, I hear echo's in my head of time passing, 11 minutes, 17 minutes, 5 minutes.....

How odd I think these minutes,...

 and then I become aware that these echos are the number of minutes between each thought of my mother.

A month ago today, I let silence exist, and today I become keenly aware that the first 11 minutes has turned into a month.


And the TV shows a movie about a mother and abandoned-child reconciling.
And a co-worker has to leave work early and catch a flight because her mother has passed away.
And news shows an nine and eleven year old taken away from their mother for neglect.
and...
and...

And I met a man, today, who did not cry when his mom died,.....  it took him years to realize his guilt was not about the lack of tears but  Only because society says you are supposed to miss your mom, and he does not.
and..
and,..

53 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

and I wonder how long I will let the silence exist.

memory foam mattress

and the driver of the car wanted make a right turn,
look left stop at the red light
Quick look then proceed
a second quick look is what her dad had taught her.

and it happened so fast
one mistake

just one

so fast the one mistake

The driver of the car will say "i'm sorry"

I'm Sorry
I'm Sorry

once she realized she was in an accident she wanted to get out of her car to see what damaged happened to her driver side door

but a stranger saw it all,  
and the stranger motioned her to not move

don't move

don't move

words usually said in an accident

you don't want to hurt yourself further so you should sit still.

she was white with fear, and her car window would not open.

she did not know what to do,
so she did as the stranger said.

she saw all the onlookers and felt embarrassed,
she did not like to be the center of attention,
but she felt everyone was looking at her.

she checked herself in the mirror to see if she was bleeding, and she exhaled with a sigh of relief at seeing none.
saw her hair was a bit out of place and began preening herself.

.
and the front tire of the motorcycle lined up perfectly with the front tire of the car
and the side of the car inhaled every curve and point of the motorcycle
form fitting
snug
better to say, like the mattress commercials, the hand on the mattress and the mattress takes the shape of the hand perfectly. so was this scene

The on lookers looked for the human that was once on the motorcycle
expecting him to have been thrown
a mangled hurt man laying on the ground
and the crowd of course expecting blood

but curiously there was no blood

but the stranger saw it all,
and motioned to the motorcyclist
hesitation
fear
but stepped towards him

step
step
step

and the driver of the car had wanted make a right turn,
stop at the red light, look left
Quick look then proceed
a second quick look is what her dad had tried to teach her

This quick look was not to the left as her dad had taught her instead the quick look was at her phone.

and she...
she...
she so confused
it happened so fast

like the commercial selling mattresses that shows the mattress forming around the actors hand,

the motorcycle was inhaled by the side of the car that pulled out in front of him, as he tried to motor through the green light.

but the stranger saw it all,
the car that pulled out on a red light
the motorcycle that was 41 mph through a green light
the metal of the car collapsing around the motorcycle and the rider

then the stranger saw the lifeless body of the motorcyclist as the girl in the car looked in the mirror to comb her hair.

3:am

The patriarch of the family, organized this impromptu
early-morning, family outing of coffee and scones,
your distant wife, and somewhat distant 15 year old son, sit across from you
and your,… sm-a-ll , 10 year old boy, has fallen asleep next to you on the couch.

work responsibility causes the need to leave this moment of family closeness.

So, you carefully lift the sleeping boy to your shoulder.
and to the car, the family walks.


his arms cling to your neck
you feel his warmth and total trust in you
his legs flopping with each step you take,
so you slow,..
to protect his slumber state
.
.
.
.
and the  15 year old trailing behind the family on the way to the car,
Pinches the sleeping child
Pinches hard !!
hard enough to startle!
hard enough to welt!
hard enough to cause uncontrollable sobbing!


and the father scolds
"why did you do that?"
"how could you do something so mean to your little brother"


And the 15 year old, . . . just stands there speechless,
his words try to crawl out from a deep pit within,

but no words make the journey into the morning light
.
.
The father continue to scold and ends with "what were you thinking?"

and at that moment the teenager was thinking about,..

3:am.
.
.
.

The mom is oblivious to this scene behind her, she already in the car
is busy
busy texting
busy face booking
busy farmville -ing


in her electronic world she is
ever so helpful
giving away tractors
sharing advice
liking business

In her electronic world she is valued and wears her badge of greatness with honor

but in the real world she is not like real moms
although there is plenty of food her kids go to school hungry, and
with mountains of laundry so her kids go to school dirty


her defense is “ self proclaimed “ insomnia
she does not sleep well
she says she cant stay asleep

she says:

3:am
.
.
.

for her husband
3am ..... is sometimes interrupted, by groggy barely remembered words from his wife as she slinks back into bed.
she tells him:
"I just needed some water"
"I heard a noise in the boy's room and was checking on him"



for her 3:am
is selfishness and power
it is adrenaline and control

it is for secrets,...
"he doesn't know what I'm doing, he's asleep"

for her 3:am
is full of justifications
"if he didn't like it he would tell me"


"tonight I'll just look and not touch"
"last night I went too far, so tonight I won't do anything"

" and next time I won't lift "
"and next time I won't.."
"and next time I ..."
"and next time ..."
"and"
"and"
and
and


AND. For the boy not yet out of his 15th year of life

3am is

feeling confused and scared
... hopelessness fills his days....

3AM is
feeling alone and powerless
... dirty-ness that cant be showered off ....

for him 3:am is the cause of
feeling guilty for hating his mother so,

betrayed by himself for NOT telling HER to stop it.

and worst of all 3:am is
being betrayed by his own body
his body that responds to touch
his body that he can't control
.
.
.
Can't control even though the touch feels so disgustingly wrong

the daytime brings with it, a numbness mixed,
with bouts of overwhelming, uncontrollable emotion
as sudden flashes of the previous 3:am, bombard his mind
... he is tortured by his thoughts ….


But now,
but now,
but now,
but,  now


the  15 year old trailing behind the family on the way to the car,
after the impromptu family outing for coffee and scones,

was re-living the 3:am that was only 8 hours ago
if one could rate all the 3am's on some unimaginable scale of horror,...

last night,
last night would have been the worst,

because
because of betrayal
because his body is young
because the outrageous evil
of his body almost caused him to cum at the lips of his abuser.

his thoughts of the horror from 8 hours ago was broken, when he saw his little brother.

innocent
helpless
clinging to their father,

and then he realizes the first, 3:am happened when he, was as young as his little brother is now !

Crashing, thundering waves of concern, confusion and helplessness,
As he asks himself the question
"Has She started doing it to HIM?"

and with a flood of emotion so intense and overwhelming he
he does not know what to do !!!
so he,

Pinches the sleeping child
Pinches hard !!
hard enough to startle!
hard enough to welt!
hard enough to cause uncontrollable sobbing!

and his father scolds him.
"why did you do that?"
"how could you do something so mean to your little brother"
.
.
.
And the 15 year old, . . . just stands there speechless,
his words try to crawl out from a deep pit within,

words of torture,
words anger,

most of all he needs and wants the words

"make her stop"
"PLEASE!!"

"how can you Not see what she does to me at night"

"Please, She is evil"
"Please"

"Please, maker her STOP!!"
"Please"
.
.
.
.

but no words make the journey into the morning light,


His father continues the scolding and ends with "what were you thinking?"

and at that moment the 15yr old, with the words stuck in his throat,

was thinking,

about 3:am

Bad parents

So I want to go back and chase them down and make them let me go,

so I can let them go...


its like I am half awake and half asleep as i feel the evil in my room
pining me down
pushing on my heart as if trying to push it out through my back.

then I become aware of the energy
the pure evil that is upon me
and I feel trapped and frozen and can not move
helpless to defend myself
I lay there while life is slowly sucked out of me.

I had only wished that just before i succumb to death
I could scream
scream loud
loud enough to wake the dead
I wish that I could have screamed loud enough to wake me!

I wish that I could have focused my pure innocent energy, to come to my defense.

I wish I had defiance
defiance like never felt before,
defiance never shown before,
and I wish I could peel its grip from my throat as I burn its body with my eyes and exhale a white light incinerating it

but instead it grabs hold of my throat controlling  me
killing me
pushing on my heart as if trying to push it out of me
trying to smother me.

and helplessly
 but momentarily
 I allowed them to kill me

9 - 11

I travel again the headlines Bold
The ads diminish
And towers of above gound cemetaries drained of its residence
And water still in the streets

The airport alive with other peoples concerns

And I see travelers, four
Evenly split life experienc and no experience

Their energy tense with hunger and fatigue

Food choices too great they split one elder taking one son

They return into view only one meal between the four
The energy more tense
The younger ones doing their best
To defend against the barage

And when the adults get home they will think - what a great vacation

I love you too

in some families it is real and palpable

the affirmation and commitment to the family

the honest reminder that no matter what,....  there is a place for you here
and you are in our hearts.

so I as the grandparent say "I love you" and you in return say " I love you too"

and sometimes the roles are reversed and it is I that says "I love you too"
my words to you are heart felt
sometimes with slight tear of emotion
And I hope you know it is real.

I hope you know it is not the "god bless you" to your sneeze
nor the "your welcome" to my "thank-you"

words so important should not  be a societal norm
should not be an automated response

but alas we are a society of rules and norms

and after my dad tells me I'm here only because he grunted in when he should have pulled out,
it is time to turn in for the night and he says "I love you" and I reply with the well rehearsed line "I love you too"

and on the way out the door to school, even though there was a 3:am, the parent says "I love you" and the dutiful child replies "Love you too"

after the lovers break up sex the well rehearsed lines;
"hmm l love you" she says
his reply, a tired with an almost bothersome tone "Love you too"
Insecurity of relationship almost forgotten.

And as the adopted child utters the reply
desperately trying to believe
believe the words coming out of their mouth
those magic words of "I love you too".

wanting to believe in their power
power of loving families
where through the anger and the chaos
through the disappointment and frustration
the day ends with "I love you too"
and it is real and palpable.

but the hollow, empty, lonely,
soul-shattering feelings of not being wanted so over-shadow the words

The words become dutiful and meaningless.

hand to hold

one turns left
the other turns right
and the sun sets for the last time.

it was said
we belong together
we will last forever

we believed what was said

we watched so many sunrises separated
but always watch the sunsets together, holding hands,
looking to each other

even when miles and time zones prevented us from touching,
through the ether we were together at the end of each day.

one career lead a path to the right
the other career leaned to the left
but we always met in the middle when the sun set

and the heat of the summer
and the cold of winter
brought burned houses
burst pipes
late night rescues
early morning emergencies
messes to clean
memories to recover
but then when the sun set we held hands

so many straws placed
broken bridges
houses divided
grinding axes
apple of our eyes,...
so many years of rebuilding,...
and through it all we looked to each other as the sun set.

near homelessness
lost loved ones
monkey on backs
weight of world
and the vows of sickness and health were never broken

kids to teenagers
teenagers to adults
adults to grandchildren
so many family gatherings
all ending with the sun setting while hand in hand.

to most we were the pillar of the family.
for commitment
for sanity
for forgiving
for never losing hope

and one sunset not too long ago one grandson said "I know you'll be together forever"

for within our strength
the kids and grand kids
and friends and acquaintances
all relied on the us

and I say yes
yes we are together forever but,
this
this, is my first sunset without a hand to hold.

Mona Lisa smile

I never thought
never thought it

I never thought I would be here now
that I would still,
 be,
 here.

I was the littlest one.
bounced from mom to mom, with one half of a dad

I never thought I would be here now.

So many years of self inflicted pain
so many homeless nights

So sure I was
sure that I was not,
not able to instill the chaos of my life into my very own offspring.

and yet I sit with my baby boy on my lap,
picture day, that day when people smile and share.
and pride is normal

but the photographer slow and camera not professional this pose will take a while.

my baby  boy on my lap we sit.
I am rigid, waiting,
like you see on TV when a camera from the 1800's is used, where the photographer instructs the subjects to sit still, and not breath, then he takes the lens cap off the bulky primitive camera, while reinforcing the command to hold very still.

30 seconds of rigidity

it takes so long to get those shots, but it should be worth the discomfort.

30 seconds of rigidity or was it an eternity of holding breath and pushing down emotions?

rigidity, hold breath and fake smile,
all the while this amazing little life smiles huge, eyes full and happy, like when he is well fed and wanting to play a game.

Just a little bit ago he was touching the tears streaming down my face. His magic trying to make them go away.

He is so innocent he has no idea that right now
 I am
rigid
body stiff
posed

a moment to be cherished but instead
like a steal girder rusted into place on an abandoned bridge my Mona Lisa smile appears.

a time that would normally
be soft
 be caring
be loving

is instead filled with
reservations
self-preservation
and feigned happiness
all the while the baby boy sits and smiles care free on his mothers lap,
on my lap.

Stoic
Still
Posed
Pretending to Love
this thing on my lap.

this thing on my lap that causes a revulsion in me as strong as seeing a person decapitated

this horrific scene is not because of the boy himself it is because of fantasy

it is my fantasy
my fantasy lived daily that caused this reality.

fantasy feels good and reality catches up with you

Both collide when my baby boy comes to visit with his adoptive mother.

My baby, which came from the fantasy of sterile loins
my baby which now lives with religious freaks,
freaks that fed my fantasy, and took my baby

He came out just a little bit addicted, he is not as bad as me, I don't see why they had to take him from me.

"I would have stopped once he was born........"

and so  I sit holding what is not mine, yet he is, mine.
His smile brightens the whole outdoors.

and my Mona Lisa smile, holds back my rage,
my fear
my disgust and anger and blame

and I can't wait to get him off my lap,

the visit has gone too long and I need to find a place to sleep tonight and a fix would be much appreciated.

reality sucks and fantasy is waiting.

so one last smile,
fake kiss and weak hug,

tears stream as I walk away
walk and then turn left,

glass pipe and a hot lighter
and I smile
smile
smile,..
like that one painting, man
man
you know,
you know, that, you know, lady sitting with that,  little smile, you know,
yeah, man
I smile,
smile like Mona Lisa.

coffee shop

and the man reads about health and fitness and success and wealth and family.
he is so learn-ed
he can advise
he does give advice both freely and when asked for
but in either case
the advice falls onto deaf ears of
Both
the listener
and the one talking.

Meanwhile
The ex-convict behind the counter sees the kids across the street in prom attire and comments "pretend dress up"
then with even more sarcasm "big night on the town, La -Dee-Dah" and continues with disdain in his voice "look at me, I'm all growed up in my rented suit and my too expensive dress" after a couple of long breaths he,...
he sees his life that has passed him by.  Life of troubles, lost opportunity, no time for the fairy tale of being a kid....
and he throws at me the words "this night aint worth a hill of beans,"
and then snarls with anger fueled by a lifetime of regrets "pretend dress up" emphasized with a harrumph!.

While I look I see the same kids all dressed up but I see the smiles that light up the night sky and steps so high they almost fly. And the words that rattle in my head are rebuttals to the ex-convicts verbal assault to the teenagers.

Meanwhile
the foursome, with two competing conversations
the two men, two women
one man reads a crossword dictionary out loud to one woman
and the other man occasionally gently plays a tune on his guitar
cross talk about subjects no one really cares about.
and the woman bored with hearing words from the dictionary, asks the guitarist to sing a song.


Meanwhile
The loner writing  his stories sits alone at a table


Meanwhile
as a woman and her four year old son walk away from the counter, he is holding some chocolate treat, she is holding the coffee for her and milk for him, looking for an empty table they see one next to the loner, she points,

the four year old puts the chocolate treat on the empty table, and then sits at the table with the loner writing his stories.


and the end of the day comes, a man riding a 20 yr old Raleigh.comes into the coffee shop.  The  the man most likely homeless, the bicycle worn - the years have been hard for both and they cling to each other as a reminder that at one time they were "top hat," the best there was, but that was too many years ago .  The man is there to ask the ex-con for a favor, for some food, for a special treat of fresh coffee,

The shop closes
The night time becomes the night life
and alcohol fuels the fun,
and at least one of the kids will lose their virginity, but all the boys hope to.
and the homeless man and his bicycle will find safe refuge in forgotten corner of the street.
the mom and son, will talk of manners and strangers
the learned man will read and learn some more.
the foursome will go their separate ways knowing they will meet up again soon.


and the loner will be alone.


and then the bakers will start baking
and the night will give way to the morning street sweeper
and the coffee shop will reopen