I see where you are, in need of stirring water into whirlpools, wanting to turn it into wine and drink it dry.

you want to drown yourself in the nectar of a dozen strangers to find yourself. You want to find yourself somewhere between their moans and how they make you dizzy when they’re inside you.

Wanna try me for all the alcohol metaphors I can come up with?

how about a comparison between wine and whine

Sex

The sex you think will help you out of this, and it might.

I also tried to party myself back together, like I said in a poem about confetti once. Ripped apart like bits of confetti, forced to put myself back together like a puzzle. I, too, was my own kind of humming bird.

Months of my own brand of dizziness as I was falling asleep. I am tired of it now, I found myself through it though, I did. And I bet you will too.

You won’t drown in your whirlpools of wine, Or accidental beer drunk at noon on a Monday.

You’ll come out dry

And hopefully happy.

Is made my mother cry/

And make her think I didn’t wanna call  when I was just worried about worrying her with my bad choices/ or sometimes lack of choices at all.

the saddest thing I’ve ever done was hearing her words but shucking her advice down a football field as I laid under the stars with my bad decisions.

The saddest thing I’ve ever done was hating myself while she called me her hero.

Was forgetting that I come from pistol in their holster women/ from raising children against all odds women/ for hustling because my kids will never be hungry women.

How could I forget that I come from a grandmother who barricaded herself in her home with a poker face/her 8 year old children/ and a shotgun. A grandmother who could have stopped any government from taking her land/ twice/ while pregnant.

How did I forget that I share my mothers thick dark hair and her worry lines/ worry lines because there’s a lot to worry about/ one for every prayer she sent up for me because she knew I’d make it but she hopped I’d make it unscathed.

How did I forget I am the daughter and the reflection of beauty and let any woman make me believe my face was ordinary.

The saddest thing I’ve ever done was forget that I had a cheerleader when I was failing and a home when I was homeless/ was forgetting my mother’s talent for surviving was so abundant that it overflowed and fell onto me.

The saddest thing I ever did

Was write this poem in English

knowing she won’t understand.

You can’t take steps backwards to meet somebody where they are if it stalls your progress and disrupts your peace.

 

Then it’s you that needs better sight

Not me that needs brighter colors.

so voice it.
please.

I feel like I just came back from a really long vacation
She says
It was like standing outside in a hail storm without cover
And I couldn’t even feel the ice hit my skin
A vacation
But there was no sun
And no relaxing
Just me floating in a fog and ever so often
I’d grasp at a thought
And remember that I wasn’t even supposed to be on vacation
Like I left in the middle of things
Didn’t turn off the stove and now there’s probably a fire
Was pulled away before I got to tell that girl I wouldn’t make it for our date
Was checked out without a choice
Without a warning
Just woke up one morning and the fog in my brain had taken me with no return flight information
So I was just up there
between clouds that weren’t white
Looking at skies that weren’t blue
And in between all that there were sudden lighting bolts that reminded me I was supposed to be somewhere else
but I wasn’t sure where
I heard your voice sometimes
Saw your face
Wanted to fill my mouth with loving words
For you
but they kept slipping from me
I kept forgetting them
I kept slipping into the damn haze
And God I hated this forced “vacation”
And when I was finally back
and I wasn’t sure how long it had been

you were gone.

You came and you came.
you took your time with it.
it was still warm out when you Finally did/the last bit of summer weeding itself out.
Then you left
Right in time for the winter to pass through me like a fucking blizzard that just
would. Not. Stop.

I’m ready to come up for air now.
I’m shaking/ from the cold and the trauma.
But I’m shaking off the snow/the sad/ the empty.
Dusting off my old self.
Ridding myself of this God awful winter
that tore me into tiny bits of confetti
Mockingly
Like:
“here you go, you tried to party yourself back to life
So I will turn you into the confetti you want to be so badly.”

It forced me to piece myself back together
Like the worst fucking puzzle
But I did
And I said fuck you
I said I will cover myself in glitter
And celebrate the victory of surviving you.

but I’m ready to come up for air now.
And you have your own surviving to do.
And I have to go now/ I have living I won’t put on hold

But when you’ve stumbled up enough stairs and pieced together your own confetti like a puzzle
Remember me
And when I’m through loving myself so much that
it overflows out of my ears and my mouth like overgrown flowers
Come to me

We’ll use the bits of confetti that don’t serve us anymore
to throw a big fucking party.

Getting over you was like winter in Maryland/ With a lot of fake springs.

Oddly enough it’s still February/And I’m finally done with you.

thing is, there’s always gonna be something going on in life that makes you wanna say that you’re not ready. We take too much time harshly over analyzing what we’ve got to give. You’re never gonna fully feel complete and when you do, it’ll only be for a fleeting moment. I constantly feel like I’m not quite right, not quite done growing, not quite ready for other people to see the “work in progress”. but I think I could really miss out on life if I wait till I feel like the “ending product” to finally put myself out there.

so I tell her that I’m still in love with too many people
to add one to the list

That I hate myself too much
To fathom that anybody could love me

I tell her I am nothing
That I’m barely here

That if she had met me when I was still filled with myself
Things would be different

But I’m empty now

Maybe I don’t tell her
But I think it

I think that I am afraid
That I’m too broken

that if anything else happens
I might shattered completely

And loose it.