In haste...
Behind
Our footprints
Were the scattered emptiness
Of the memories
Of them
On the shores

She left the three parties of us
Me, Samantha
And our traveler friend

They were play things for sunset fares,
She said.

Just yesterday
They were happy to be here
The young flowers now scattered about
This beach shore
Too young to be plucked
Happy to grow up into one party of laughter!

That's how we remember they were here
That's how to plant graveside flowers
For the dead
They were play things for sunset fares

They were not soldiers
They were unprotected women
They were not warriors
They were unfed afraid Biafran children  

That's how to plant graveside flowers
That's how we have kept them forever
In our hearts
That's how we actualize Biafra.

but that handle was made for his hand
hand - handle
handle - hand

the fingers would close
around it to never let go
It had to have flesh around it
at all times
But the blade...
the blade was still naked. He couldn't let
the blade naked
It wasn't fair

"So that's why you stabbed your
mommy then?" the psychiatrist asked him.

"Yes," he said.

"The knife is more important
to you than mommy?"

"The knife listens. Mommy doesn't."

Chain smoking sadness, slapped by time.
Winter doesn't freeze the pain.
There was one thing that
Mom wanted more than
anything else in the world:
It was to have a
picture of her
seven kids all together,
in one place,
at one time.
There was an age
difference of
23 years between the
youngest to the oldest,
and 1000 miles separating us.

In December of 1987
two weeks before Christmas,
I held a picture of
the seven of us all together.
I put it in the
right front pocket of
her navy blue blazer.
After the funeral,
we buried her with it.

You had
To go
Through
It all
So you
Could
Become
Who you are
Today

She worries about
everything;
real and imagined.
"What if this?  What if that?"
I watched my
Mom
worry herself right
into the
grave one disastrous
December night.
My girlfriend doesn't care.
She wants me to
worry right along
with her.
And when I don't,
she gets angry.
My Dad used to say,
"They can **** us,
but they can't eat us."
I share this with her.
Nothing!
Just
worry, worry, worry.
"

How am i?
You want the truth?
I'm broken
Not the type you get when you didn't get your way so you're slightly disappointed. I'm heart broken. My heart is aching deep inside my chest, it trembles because it's now coming to terms with what my brain already knows.
How am i?
I am in pain ...
I have alot of physical ailments but nothing, nothing at all compares to crying yourself to sleep, waking up from sleeping crying, going through your day crying. I've cried for 3 days now.
How am i?
I'm trying to be strong.
Why?  I know if you knew how I really feel you'll be devastated so I lie, I tell you I'm doing okay, I'm great, fantastic...while  having..tears on my cheeks....so you can focus on you. I went to school trying to hide my tears but then I saw my friend and I broke down. I actually gripped at my heart and I told her it hurts soooo bad. My heart was beating like normal but yet it hurt so bad. I cried so much that I accepted it, class mates passed me and asked "Are you ok?" I said "I'm great, ignore the tears I have allergies".
How am i?
I'm hurt.
So so so so so so hurt. You wanted to stop hurting me so much that you decided to break my heart instead. I hate you for that.  You promised me you wouldn't break my heart. Then why am I crying everyday, why does my heart ache, why am I not eating....why am I in such pain.....why do I feel so.... empty.
How am I?
I don't know.
I'm so many things yet nothing all at once.
I wouldn't wish heart break on an enemy if I had any.
It's painful...no one deserves to feel like they're nothing,...
No one deserves to feel broken.




                                                     ­               Jonesy 2020 (c)