two steps forward
and one step back, although,
it could be the other way around,
i have a tendency to mix things up,
sometimes i can fake my way through,
but you always manage to see right through me,
i’m not sure if that’s your talent or mine
i wear it well, or so I’ve been told,
but that was back when i believed those things,
when all my friends weren’t dead yet,
and i could reach as high as i wanted,
while rolling in the mud,
i was a princess once,
with a throne made of red velvet
and anything i wanted was mine,
i never asked for anything though
maybe i would have been better off if i did,
in retrospect, i should have taken all those hearts,
wrapped them in foil
and tossed them into the sea,
to sink deeper than i ever did
at least then i would have something to reach for,
to pull me out of these depths
I don’t love today.
2 months ago to the day my Mom died.
It’s also 5 years since my Mother-In-Law died and, in a bad cosmic-joke way, it’s also my wedding anniversary.
My Mom was always the only one other than me who remembered my wedding anniversary.
This year I’m the only one who remembered my wedding anniversary.
I miss my Mom.
She doodles more often than not, a plain good old fashioned number two pencil flying over the empty page as she encourages something she deems good-enough to manifest itself into magic.
Half the time she stares into the nothing.
She’s surrounded by it, like a bubble.
Regardless of the location, the nothing seems to follow her everywhere she goes.
Her own personal nothing.
It’s not as bad as it sounds, she would tell you if you asked her.
She fills the void around her with her own imaginings culled from everything she’s ever known as well as things she hasn’t.
Sometimes she writes things down in a little notebook she carries with her.
Random words she likes the sound of when spoken out-loud, observations she makes as she stares out the window watching the world go by.
She’s always alone even when she’s not.