Some people asked me why I need to leave my mother’s house.
She was a fragile woman.
Alone and old.
I should have taken care of her while I can.

The truth is, sometimes I love her.
But most of the times…
all I remember is how she kicked me in the shin
that left a wound for months.
How she, while I’m sick from tuberculosis,
dragged me outside the house
because I don’t have the appetite to eat.
The neighbors had to beg for me.
The neighbors gave me sympathy that my mother refused to give out of anger.

I was only a child.

The truth is, she is an amazing woman for a few days.
But she is a whole different monster if you overstayed.

Is it bad to hold grudges?
For 25 years, I was the emotional punching bag of a sad woman.
And now people asks me why I need to leave my mother alone.

If I don’t leave,
If by the grace of gods I stayed with her,
everyday will be a constant reliving of memories I have tried so hard to bury.
Everyday,
my hate will grow larger than what I can contain.

Everyday I will wish she was dead.

People don’t like it when I tell them this.
They say something along the lines of they hope my kid won’t do this to me.
Or that I didn’t have any gratitude for my own mother.
For raising me alone.
For sacrificing her happiness.

Is it okay to be thankful but not want to be around that person?
Why do I need to be punished for my mother’s small jabs of abuse?
Isn’t healing my inner child
and trying to get the courage to leave
enough of a punishment?

I am pregnant now.
I will try my best to not be like my mother.
To not be full of rage.
My kids will not have to tiptoe around my emotions.
I will create a home that’s

forgiving,
welcoming,
kind.

“It’s okay.”

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

I will shield them from the shadows that haunted me for 30 years.

The abuse ends with me.

The abuse ends with me.

She can not understand
how much a heart can desire
something it never had.
Those little hands and little toes
soft coos and a tiny, button-nose.
Wrapped in white, an angel sleeping,
peaceful and drowsy,
with all the angels waiting.
With hands that don't know how to stay
and cries are all to communicate,
a darling angel grows and cleaves,
relying on one for all she needs.
And wherever in Heaven she may be,
your lonely mother waits for thee.

Time ticking down,
Like the guttering of a dying flame,
So close,
Can nearly taste,
Where you and me will soon be three,
When our son we can finally meet.

I can picture his little hands,
His oh-so little feet,
Eyes as big as plates,
So filled with possibilities and innocence,
A pitcher for you and me to fill,
With kindness and glee.

But it seems so far away,
Still seems like a bit of a dream,
That the hypothetical seems to still carry me,
On a cloud,
Gently floating,
On an azure dream.

The pain, the pleasure,

the ****** of giving birth:


fertility queen.

Away with the vice

squad-patriarchy: I am --


Boss Of My Belly!

Miss Holly,
You would have had
Just the most beautiful smile
And the brightest eyes.
I am sure your laugh
Would have lit up my world
And I know our souls would sing
When we saw each other.

But I also know
We would have hard times,
Maybe more hard times,
And I don’t want to bring you into the world
To struggle, beside me.
Maybe we might have had
Good days and weeks, even months,
But I am coming out of
The hardest chapter in my life
And you are not the closure
This chapter needs.

I don’t know
If I will ever have children
Who live on this side of my mind,
But you will always live
Inside my heart.

you caused this fire
with a dimpled smile and a plane ticket
can’t suffocate a blaze with a match
petrol running down my legs
wanna watch me burn at the stake?
7,000 miles of wildfires called me by your name

like a moth drawn to a flame
we kissed on the light up floor
your fingers inside of me, it was divine to me
surrendering my soul to my god
left my lipstick scars all over you

i ate the apple from the softness of your hand
our garden of eden was no holy land
i let you knock at the door of my spine
no malice in my voice, come inside
but baby, you weren’t expecting
me to multiply

like a moth drawn to a flame
i bit your tongue in the break of day
wanted to taste your blood for a change
nothing like a little emotional
devastation to get me through it

yell it más, señor
til your vocal cords are ******
oath taken in sacred silence
tragedy and insanity and is
it all a game to you?
because you hid while i sought
yell it más, señor
yell it más

and when i told you of the flower blossoming within
you cried like a boy for his mother
you see, there’s no way we can keep it
not for your career

and the next day on the 405
my soul wrung empty inside
suffocating loneliness, all-consuming
75mph, nearly opened my door
told my therapist i wanted the asphalt to eat me alive

they took me to the madhouse
while you had a pint and a laugh miles from my hospital bed
they said
“she wants to end her life with a baby inside, oh, what a terrible state she’s in”

the doctor watched me as i cried
with cigarette breath and roaming hands
forced the wand inside of me
at the same time i jumped over the ledge
and did you know i laid in silence
while he whispered in my ear

“good girl, it’s a girl”, you see, oh?
can’t you feel the joy?
of creating something like God herself?
like vines sprouting from the soil?
but Oceania, so much panic, yeah
too far, didn’t wanna come near
my ash-strewn wreckage

like a moth drawn to a flame
blazing light, burned just right
i wanted you to suffocate my pain
pretended it didn’t exist for our

transpacific love games
i’ll be Marilyn and you be Errol
the actor who can’t survive any longer
and the one who devoured a woman whole

yell it más, señor
oh god i’m bleeding on the bathroom floor
so much sacrifice for paradise
but isn’t this what it’s for?
tragedy and insanity and
oh no, it’s all a game, i see
yell it más, señor
yell it más

aliel
enaj