May 2013
Often, the worlds starts to dim at the edges and I realize that I forgot to breath.
You were passage to my lungs and allowed oxygen into my blood.
At times, I forget what I look like--assuming I'm a cross between a troll and a haggard witch.
You were my mirror reflecting bright lights so the glare of the glass could blind me to imperfections.
I frequently don't know what to say when a sarcastic teacher howls into my ear.
You were my voice, powerful and sure.
Sometimes, I get light headed and shaky with an empty tummy angered by my neglect.
You were my mother, calling me to supper.
What I never had to think about before, now, seems so difficult.
Someone changed the controls and the instructions are in Korean.
What are these symbols? I can't even google them because the keys to my laptop don't have any of those shapes.
It wouldn't matter anyway because it seems to be melded shut.
Maybe my hands are weak because you were my strength.
Life without you is easy--simple.
But I've forgotten how to live this way.
Like a 49 year old man in his 16 year old daughter's math class. The class he had once taken and passed with flying colors now is nothing but nonsense.
Even after 2 years of being away from you, I long to know you once more.
Unfortunately we're not pieces of the same puzzle anymore.
Or perhaps we never were?
Maybe that's why we clashed over and over. Repeating the process until I was tossed aside.
Your world is full and complete while I lie on a banana peel at the bottom of a ******* bin.
It pains me to see your picture finally completed and to know it was I who stopped production.
Next to you are spaces already filled in. I search for somewhere I can lie snuggly in.
No where. As I lay in the garbage I whisper , "It's not supposed to be like this."
You were passage to my lungs and allowed oxygen into my blood.
At times, I forget what I look like--assuming I'm a cross between a troll and a haggard witch.
You were my mirror reflecting bright lights so the glare of the glass could blind me to imperfections.
I frequently don't know what to say when a sarcastic teacher howls into my ear.
You were my voice, powerful and sure.
Sometimes, I get light headed and shaky with an empty tummy angered by my neglect.
You were my mother, calling me to supper.
What I never had to think about before, now, seems so difficult.
Someone changed the controls and the instructions are in Korean.
What are these symbols? I can't even google them because the keys to my laptop don't have any of those shapes.
It wouldn't matter anyway because it seems to be melded shut.
Maybe my hands are weak because you were my strength.
Life without you is easy--simple.
But I've forgotten how to live this way.
Like a 49 year old man in his 16 year old daughter's math class. The class he had once taken and passed with flying colors now is nothing but nonsense.
Even after 2 years of being away from you, I long to know you once more.
Unfortunately we're not pieces of the same puzzle anymore.
Or perhaps we never were?
Maybe that's why we clashed over and over. Repeating the process until I was tossed aside.
Your world is full and complete while I lie on a banana peel at the bottom of a ******* bin.
It pains me to see your picture finally completed and to know it was I who stopped production.
Next to you are spaces already filled in. I search for somewhere I can lie snuggly in.
No where. As I lay in the garbage I whisper , "It's not supposed to be like this."
