I fell hard. I didn't mean to--
I thought I had secure footing
on this slippery slope of life,
but the avalanche started falling
and I couldn't stop the landslide of grief
that flooded in and drenched my soul
with torrents of pain
which I honestly did not know
would weigh me down so heavily
and all this time,
all these weeks and months gone by
and I keep thinking no one, no one
will ever, ever see
that there is all this unending grief and pain
washing in and around and throughout
all of me--
But she saw right through my facade of smiles
and recognized me through my hidden tears
she reached out to touch my heart
and assuaged some of my deepest fears
She reminded me to hold on tight,
to not give up or give in to all the pain
her love, her words, her genuine concern
made me want to fight, to feel really good
and free and find my smile again...
So though I've fallen down (and I didn't mean to at all)--
I know now I can get right back up
even though it was one very nasty
and painful fall
and while I'm standing on my feet again
and dusting off all this painful debris
I'll always remember and hold onto the evening
that my beloved daughter called
just to check in on me.
©Pamela Rae 05.19.2017
Who would contradict the affection of a mother?
She who endeavored to bestow us the breath of existence;
Intensely compassionate in personality they are.
Secures us and therefore forms our defense.
Who else can obtain and sustain the duty of a sister?
She who happens to be our emotional support;
Sensible in intellect and gentle in action they are.
Guides us and therefore on no account lets us abort.
Who would constantly be dependable like a wife?
She who makes it crucial to fulfill our needs at any rate;
Gorgeous in qualities and remains beside us for our entire life,
Idolizes us and therefore desires us to be her soul mate.
Who else can be more valuable than a daughter?
She who sacrifices for the advantages of her family;
Garnished with essence of motherliness and heals our scar.
They are overflowing with responsibilities to an extreme degree.
Women stay as the most significant person in our life and soul,
And build an effort to facilitate us to accomplish our goal.
I held the hands of my daughters
And felt the weight of their hearts.
I watched youth dance around me in the kitchen,
And I embraced it as I was swarmed by
Melodies of brass and piano,
A concert for three.
I watched little, flamboyant Anika
Hum along, and my
Quiet, quiet Jaya nimbly twirl around the kitchen.
I felt a sense of belonging for my family.
I danced and laughed and sang
With my daughters
And I belonged.
Home was overwhelmingly
Young and quiet
And old and loud
And Malaysian and ponytail-wearing
And American and sugary-breakfast-eating
And fearful and strong
I took my emotion and hugged my family,
Allowed them to feel it too.
We made our dinner and
Sent our love in circles around each other
And let ourselves eat until we had to stop.
And every morning and every night,
We would do it again.
whatever good i had in me is gone
decayed, and no longer present
"whenever you open your mouth
you hurt someone,"
and i think
if whatever this is has an end and a
beginning then how could it
possibly give me joy?
i see bubbles conjoining and combusting
in seconds, from matter no something
that doesn't matter, i am:
bits and pieces you find in thrift stores,
and abandoned houses that don't get attention.
so one last time before the
mood swings like a wrecking ball, dagger,
or a wave current:
from a daughter who foolishly thinks there's no care
to a mother who patiently offers all her love
I could not bury you alone
I’d have to join you in the earth.
I could not hold your dying hand
Without a way to take the ill.
I could not see you on your knees
I’d have to carry you from then.
I could not blot away your tears
Without outnumbering them with mine.
I could not end my given years
Without you at my side.
She ran through the sand
one eye closed
one eye squinting
I need the towel she says
a wave hit me
I hand her the towel
a laugh thats real
I can feel it vibrate
in my chest
Thats the place
you feel it most
when its real
And when shes done
I pull her face down
and press my lips
to her forehead
tearing up secretly
behind my sunglasses
because I am
so god damned happy
and she pulls away
and runs back
to the water
chasing the waves
toward the sea
and running away
as they chase her back
to the shore
I was only 13 when I was put in life threatening danger.
I had to stay up every night waiting for my dad to come home from his second shift job.
I had to learn how to shoot my dad's rifle, disarm and detain, and knock someone out long enough to get away safely.
"Where were the adults," you ask?
With me. My step mom was with me.
But I could barely keep her from hurting herself, so I also had to be the adult.
Dad's gun was kept on the coffee table next to the couch where I slept.
Always within reach.
I've seen my dad beaten and broken.
He was supposed to be the protector.
When we moved away from that place, the people who were trying to kill us followed.
And shortly after we moved, a day after to be precise, they came into our old apartment. Kicked down our old door with their weapons and guns.
They were looking to kill us. All of us.
Me, my 2 week old brother, my dad, my dogs...
We moved to East Troy, in a small 2 bedroom apartment.
They took out my dad's truck mirrors, followed us to Waukesha,
followed us everywhere.
We had our own personal stalkers.
Finally, two years later, my dad was out at the Kwik Trip down the road a ways.
Craig or Crispy or whoever was there.
He saw my dad and punched him in the face. Right inside of the gas station in front of people.
He told my dad this:
"You're dead, Travis. Fucking dead,"
I was at school when all this happened. I wanted to come home.
I wasn't there to protect my family.
I felt so bad.
I needed my dad; I needed to see that he was okay.
But Mandie said to stay at school;
I was safer there.
I cried for about two hours.
Now I'm seventeen.
I'll be eighteen very soon.
Things have settled. They've left us alone and fled the southern part of Wisconsin.
But still, I think about how I couldn't protect my dad that day.
I still feel useless and like I could have done more...
He's still around obviously, but he might not be if he wasn't threatened in public.
The beauty of a woman
Is not in the clothes she wears,
The figure that she carries,
Or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman
Must be seen from her eyes,
Because that is the doorway to her heart,
The place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman
Is not a facial mole,
But true beauty in a woman
Is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring she lovingly gives,
The Passion that she shows.
The beauty of a woman
with passing years only grows and grows