“Background for the Monster of my Past” by 1526

What bothered me from my past is moving 3 times because we were having issues with my mom’s ex- boyfriend. My mom had a crazy ex-boyfriend who put nails on the road she drove on every day, which put holes in her tires and he broke into the house that we were living in at the time and stole a shoe, a coat, and other personal belongings. We went to Target, and he stole a bag out of the car along with gym clothes, work credentials, and cut the serpentine belt. He was seen driving through the parking lot and she called the cops. He was arrested January of ‘09 and never seen again. He went through Christmas presents, ransacked my mom’s room, he lit a candle, poured toilet bowl cleaner on my mom’s bed. He would sit across from my bus stop, he followed her home from work, he would show up at random places where she was, he would also drive up and down the street at all hours of the day and night. He showed up at my aunt’s house and had an argument with her. We never saw him again after that. Now we don’t have to worry about him again because he is not around anymore.

“Click” by 1525

She’s curled up on the damp kitchen floor
Feet firmly planted on the cool linoleum
Arms wrapped around her torso in a makeshift embrace She rests in a puddle of tears thirty four years in the making. Such sadness spurs from the stark reality of choice And symptoms of insanity become the inner voice

I’m dancing.

“Be a happy mommy,” says my six year old self
Barely able to construct the letters on the yellow paper
With a blue crayon.
I feel alone in this house when your insides are pricked with pain, And your outsides are frazzled and folding in fear
I am lost in this world because I feel so much joy,
So much novelty in naivety, wild and free;
But when I see you there, on that floor, I am forced
To confront an oppressive and onerous past that is not mine. Your mother was wicked, twisted, and cruel.
She never noticed that you are such jewel.
She shut you out of her life, such a fool.
But this is not my doing, my darling.

So I keep dancing, but I hold back.
For in this purgatory of lead and light I am stuck.
I want to make you smile, I want to be the best that I can be; But I am afraid that my acceptance and delight only highlight your misery.

So I fold, too.

The weight of your turmoil sits on my shoulders.
For so long I can carry before I crash.
Spiraling quickly into the murky abyss of this thing we call life. Sadness and self-defeat are all that we know to be true: Hatred and anger and disappointment and sting
But that is the lie we tell ourselves, mom.
Don’t hang up the phone this time;
Hear the words I need to say
that you are always too quick to dismiss with a click.

We have skeletons lingering, yes, we do
Perhaps they are deathly and ghostly and horrible
But notice their strength:
Despite all, when the fragile flesh peels away, they still stand tall; They are natural, and supportive
They bend and do not break.
Can we honor the bone-deep strength that is you and me?

Don’t hang up the phone.

I know we have brewed turbulent storms that have wreaked havoc, That have flowed and ebbed and flowed once more,
But stand in the eye and feel the pressure drop,
Breath in the sweet air of stillness,
And notice how the destruction changes
when you are no longer standing in the middle
of the winds that try to wipe us out.
Don’t look back at the shattered glass,
But notice the flowers dancing in the sunlight before you. Here come the rainbows and bees.
Can we stand in the eye for a moment more?

Please, don’t hang up that phone.

I need to say that I love you
And that I need you in my life
But your anger seems to be marrow-deep
and it feels like it is always directed towards me You are convinced
That I don’t appreciate you, that I try to replace you, That I deny you, that I despise you.
But the truth is that you are the mirror in which I look And see reflections of all that was and never will be.

The weight of your turmoil sits on my shoulders.
For so long I can carry before I crash.
Spiraling quickly into the murky abyss of this thing we call life. Sadness and self-defeat are all that we know to be true: Hatred and anger and disappointment and sting

But that is the lie we tell ourselves, mom. Don’t hang up the phone this time;
Hear the words I need to say
that you are always too quick to dismiss with a click.

We have skeletons lingering, yes, we do
Perhaps they are deathly and ghostly and horrible
But notice their strength:
Despite all, when the fragile flesh peels away, they still stand tall; They are natural, and supportive
They bend and do not break.
Can we honor the bone-deep strength that is you and me?

Don’t hang up the phone.

I know we have brewed turbulent storms that have wreaked havoc, That have flowed and ebbed and flowed once more,
But stand in the eye and feel the pressure drop,
Breath in the sweet air of stillness,
And notice how the destruction changes
when you are no longer standing in the middle
of the winds that try to wipe us out.
Don’t look back at the shattered glass,
But notice the flowers dancing in the sunlight before you. Here come the rainbows and bees.
Can we stand in the eye for a moment more?

Please, don’t hang up that phone.

I need to say that I love you
And that I need you in my life
But your anger seems to be marrow-deep
and it feels like it is always directed towards me You are convinced
That I don’t appreciate you, that I try to replace you, That I deny you, that I despise you.
But the truth is that you are the mirror in which I look And see reflections of all that was and never will be. And I find peace.
I am you, and you are me.

Don’t hang up the phone.

I’ve worked hard to change my life, yes, To move from sad and broken little girl To a dedicated world-changer
To a mother, to a wife.
I need you.
But there is no room for sadness and pain Only space for twirling in the rain And making lemons into lemonade

Don’t hang up the phone.

For in this life there is beauty in the agony Because it reminds us that we are alive. We are capable, and compassionate, and Thrive when we pull ourselves up out of the dirt And grow towards the sunlight.

So when I sit on the floor,
Crinkled and crumpled and utterly collapsed,
I notice my daughter dancing to her own tune.
I straighten myself up and the thought comes to mind: “Be a happy mommy.”
And I smile.

Click.

“Tribute to my Grandma” by 1524

Nan is always in the kitchen

She’s always happy never in a bad mood

Always taking time
out of her day
to cook me and my brother breakfast
the bacon sizzles on the pan the grease pops like volley balls on the beach

Washing clothes taking things out of the noisy dryer and folding them the same way every time

I believe she’s the best nan in the world because she does everything for me I’d do anything for her

We have good times but even in bad times she has
a positive attitude

“Daddy” by 1523

Daddy was a real fair man.

I wanted to go out to play just before supper time. And he said, “Mother has dinner just about ready.” I’m just going to the end of the block to be
with my friends for a minute.

“Well, well ok. But you know the rules.
When I whistle, I want you home.”
That will be fine. His whistle could be heard for blocks. He always had faith in me, and I always loved
and admired him.

“Father, Are You Here?” by 1522

Father, are you here?
Do you even know how I feel?
You say love but I don’t feel.

Your word is like a lie. I can never believe.

I hear you yelling in the house.
Through the walls, down the stairs.
I wish I could escape with loud music in my ears. But with your yelling it’s like h***

That’s why mom left.

Yelling, yelling, and yelling. That’s all I hear.
Never good always bad.

Then you wonder why I stay up in my room and never talk. Can we ever get along…

“Dad” by 1521

My dad was a very special man.
He showed love to his three motherless daughters A small man in stature,
but big in heart.

Who can say that he often showed partiality? But our problems were unresolved at the start.

He raised three girls to maturity.
We learned manners, grace.
In turn, we gave him love and shelter when Dad became disabled with arthritis.

Dad taught us love, honesty, and integrity. We became loyal, loving, and true to others.

Who could ask for a better Dad?

“Al” by 1521

Dear Al,

The apartment is empty without you, you are not here, but I know that you were feeling pain and didn’t want me to worry.

Your piano is now at Mindy’s home, but its absence makes your absence more acute.

Al, you have given me 60 years of love, pride, and achievement. You always enjoyed watching me grow professionally.

Rest in peace, my love know that you will always be my soulmate.

Your loving Fae

“Still Standing” by 1518

He loved his sons and only my sister not cool
Being outside in the freezing rain making me feel like a fool He always treated me so cruel

He didn’t connect with
I didn’t connect with him
Why didn’t his mom strangle him in the crib

He left me out
I didn’t care
He wrapped his anger around my neck I almost shed a tear

He tries to break me
But he can’t
That’s why he hates
I’m something he can’t stand

He tries to break me I don’t budge
Oh so deep
I drown in his blood

I believe he will always hate me
I don’t care
I am a failure is what he will always make me I wish my real dad was here

With a slap and clap
Applause for what he has done I wish he was gone

“Disney” by 1516

I ran down the brick roads of Disney the colorful buildings passing as I run soon we see Cinderella’s castle
finally we get to see the castle
it’s beautiful so detailed, so new but looked so old

the characters I once thought were fake are now real the characters were amazing
finally I got to meet Tinkerbell and all the other princesses they looked so much like they did in the movies
they even sounded the same

we rode many different roller coasters even the slower rides
we shot bad guys with buzz
and went up and down on the tower of terror

we ran racing to the roller coasters
we heard the clicks as we slowly went up the hill click click click
it got faster and faster
then we were falling
going all different directions and different speeds

my dad spent more time at work for this trip
he worked many hours day and night
driving making deliveries everywhere
my dad limited what we bought we would not buy little unimportant things

my dad sacrificed so much for me and my sister
he gave up buying new golf clubs when he needed new ones he sacrificed his own wants and needs for me and my sister and that is something most kids live without

“Mother or Mom” by 1514

My mom has a tendency,
Of saying things she does not mean, “You have friends?”
Which in turn actually helped me,
Now I do not care what anyone says about me.

Only I think there is a problem,
That problem is as bad as the song “Let it Go” from Frozen,
My mom has Fibromyalgia,
She knows I know she is in pain every day,
I do not know what to say,
She knows I know she still works around the two-story, worn down, humble abode, Listening to Paul Simon,
I respect her for that.

I remember my mother fixing the kitchen floor, The newly bought tiles,
Became my Hot Wheels roadway,
Plastic going faster than a jet down the “highway,” Vroom! Vroom!
Only now it is broken and worn out,
Me and my mother try to fix the unfixable.

My mother is always there for me when I need her the most, She made me who I am today, The only question I have is,
Is it mother or mom?

WRITE FOR LIFE.