What’s not bad is the memories. The memories are what keep me together. Keep me sane. Keep me from breaking down.
I remember your annoying singing.
Your jokes.
Your laugh
I get it, it’s gonna be like this for a while.

Thanksgiving is gonna pass, and Christmas.
I’m gonna miss how you told me that 93.9 is playing Christmas music, and how you’d take me to go see the tree in downtown.

I get it. Things are gonna be different now.

I remember that day we caught a flat tire on my birthday, and you still drove the hour to Gurnee to take me to ******* Barrel and you brought me that sock monkey.

Don’t think I didn’t stop and think about the things you did for me by doing the best you could with what you had.
that’s the real struggle.

I was ungrateful. I get it.
But I still loved you deep down.
And I always will. Now I will.

See I ain’t talking about how miserable I am. How guilty I feel. I’m trying to be happy for you. To remember you and all the good times we had.
Cause that’s all i can do.

You passing away has made me realize just how much of a messed up person I was. & I’m going to fix that.

see,
I love you mom.
I’ve always have. I was just too stubborn and angry to realize it.
And I’m sorry.

by V.I.V. , 2015
       ~ For my Mother.

It started with a Girl,
A sound soul at that, peaceful, and innocent.
This Girl played games that children play and tried to live life peacefully up until the age of 6
& She was free...

At age 6 is when she started to know things and the love she had for the woman that brought her into the world was no longer a priority in that woman’s eyes.
The woman was hurt, and broken to the core and the anger that was flames burned the
innocent soul to a crisp over the next years to come…

At age 12 the Girl lost faith. The Girl was bitter and vengeful. Broken and Hurt like the women who brought her into the world.
She had the coldest Soul with the deepest scars meant to show.
A show of her struggles, and her weaknesses.
Her tears never making it at least past her nose was the force of pride to keep her from breaking at every moment that was given to her.

The woman was a cold soul as well, and the anger that was flames burned the bitter soul to a crisp over the next few years to come…

At age 18 the girl was confused, bitter, and vengeful, and far from innocent.
The woman was weak now, a weakened soul, and done. Done with struggles and with life.
The two souls were at opposite ends, a norm almost, but yet the same.

At age 18 the Girl collapsed and felt the world push her around into tiny spaces, a suffocation.
The girl was hurt, broken, weak, vengeful, bitter, and far from innocent.
The inheritance of emotions was unbearable.

The woman was gone...
& the Girl slowly fell apart...

by V.I.V. , 2015

My hand shakes trying to unlock the door
and my arm trembles under the heap of clothes thrown over
and you walk up those stairs and scream

My head hits that door not once, not twice, but three times.
That’s a memory that never leaves…

I didn’t clean the litter box that day
and I didn’t put that rice in the fridge for dinner later
and you screamed, and chased me around the house with that burner

You swiped twice and hit third, that same pattern
On that third, that blood poured from the inside out,
and I stopped loving you
and held my nose together trying to piece back the skin that was ripped

and I cried hard
You begged me not to tell, not to speak, not to make a big deal out of anything

So I went to bed
and let every tear go,
and decided
to stop Loving you,
my mother...


by V.I.V. , 2015