pieces

"Every mouth you've ever kissed was just practice, all the bodies you've ever undressed and ploughed in to were preparing you for me. I don't mind tasting them in the memory of your mouth; they were a long hall way, a door half open, a single suit case still on the conveyor belt.. was it a long journey? did it take you long to find me? You're here now, welcome home." - Shire

New Ties

Life is tough but once and awhile 

a crack is made for those who 

try

I've given birth to Nora when I was twenty four; a little bump along the way, a silly drunken night, one Christmas holiday; all the different ways my mother explained how wrong it would be to have this child that wasn't even alive to witness such blind hate twisted to be justified. Nora's dad flee as soon as the word came out and I would have never expected anything from a man who values his pain over everything ; and because of it refuses to stand. I left home as soon as I felt the walls creep in, a family tie that shredded over everything I once believed in. My father did nothing but send me away with money; telling me 'It'll be okay honey.' I'll never forget the looks or the faces, of my family regretting the choices I was making, 'You've disgraced us.', 'How can you not see? how wrong this is for everyone in this family!' and with only that I left;  hearing these final words come out of my mother's chest.

I've made a living working as a waitress in a small town diner that wasn't at all that sophisticated, An old woman opened her home for me and gave me a job to support me and my family. I could never thank you enough for what you did; you've given me everything I thought I would forever miss. 'Don't cry; my sweet child... you have every reason in you to fight.' Every time I felt like I should just give in, her words would guide me to the light within. My mother; my chosen loving mother, I would never forget; how you took me in when the world rejected in disrespect. How you would come in every night tuck my little baby to bed and kiss her a goodnight. How you would sing that beautiful lullaby that only with it she sleeps peacefully every night. And as you lay on the ground; I'm forever bond to you... my chosen mother, I will forever love you.

I've moved to a new apartment when Nora turned three; a little place that felt cosy and was exactly what we need. I brought Nora to where I work everyday; I've never seen her smile so bright, I've never seen my daughter have as much as fun as she had. Everyone became a family; a group of strangers that gave me something, my own family had contempt it. A group of strangers that became more; much more, than anything I could've ever hoped for. I'm happy; I'm so happy, as I hold my daughter with me, in a place where love is the one thing I'm sure I'll never run out of.

Nora will grow up soon, and I will be waiting for the days where she would finally bloom and understand that the world isn't as kind as she might think, that the fairytales don't just exists, that the pain in heartache can't be cured with anything, that the love she'll feel might sometimes be missed; or wasted on someone who doesn't deserve it, that the only way for her to be is to feel everything else around her fearlessly; that it might be hard to show her soft side, and its even harder to trust that side with any man. If only I could have all the time in the world, to teach you all the things I was never taught, If only I could keep your innocence alive I'll never let you lose that shine in your eyes, If only I could be there in your deepest most secret moments of despair; If only I could be there I'll hold you in my arms, always... the same way I'm doing tonight.

Nora is sleeping in her bed; finally resting her little head, I've checked to see if she would blink she does this habit whenever I sing. Nora is almost four years old; how the time passes so fast, I'll never know... My little princess; my everything, no one would ever harm you as long as I shall live. 

reflecting innocence pt.3

I've pushed and lost him once before; when I was still desperate for more, I made sure not to feel his presence again, but like the devil; a lonely, fleeing thought of him would make me sin. I want him. I want him. My mind was consumed, not a single day had passed without him in my room. I've cried for him; when he was still with me and I've cried even more when I felt him, sink within me. My tears couldn't save me, neither would his words; for they would mean nothing because they've always left me clinging, craving more. I hate him. I hate him. And forevermore I was falling in love with a man and his broken soul.

I can't write for you the way I used to do; I can't give you hints about what you should or shouldn't do. I've turned a new page and it hurts me too; to think about the empty spaces that could've been filled with you. Trust me when I say I had no intention for it to end this way; but trust is often blind and you never had the courage to stay. My life was always hard, and ever since I was a child;  I've had a difficult time believing that anything could ever last. I still care and even as I leave; I'll hope that happiness finds you, I hope you'll find what you need.

I want to go where the wind might take me; disappear without a trace with no one with me. I've tried and I've played all this time; and finally I've found the refuge that had always been mine. In many years time we'll meet again; it would take you a few seconds to place me in, I would be different and hopefully you would too and in our differences, we'll find that theres something new... If so, don't hesitate or think twice; my heart had always been yours, and no man would ever come close. 

True Bug

When I was six years old my mother used to play this trick on me, whenever she wanted me to do something I didn't want to do, she would start counting to ten; the reason behind this was that I was terrified of her tickling, so every time she would want something from me all she would do is start counting and come over to where I'm sitting, reaching out, and I will be completely under her power. It's pretty intense given the fact I was only six and my mother knew how to manipulate me. Now however I look back at it and I can finally understand why she did it; why she would torture such a helpless child, you see, my mother always had her own unique way of doing things, she never really wanted to get anything out of me except perhaps a little laughter she knew she was the reason behind. 

They say daughters grow up to show a bit of similarities with their mothers; you would go about your life kicking and screaming rejecting that statement, until finally realising your mother did the exact same thing when she heard that exact same statement. I don't think that's necessarily a given but when you're in a place where you don't feel as assured anymore you ought to look to the one person who properly knows nothing to little about who you are right now but more than nothing about who you were at a certain point of time. 

I was always a private person and perhaps I took after my father than my mother in that aspect; I kept a diary just like my dad and tried to document all the thoughts I used to have until one day I stopped and started writing stories about a different me in a different time; I think that was the starting point of my love affair with escapism! I was (and still) is a seeker of something else, never pleased or satisfied I took writing as a way to fill an overgrowing gap. Once I started I knew there was no going back; so I took refuge in writing about all the things I wish I had, knowing deep down I'll never actually get to have.

I run away because it's always been easier this way, I push everyone away and I regret it as soon as I've done it. However I always find a way to justify my mean because people leave and that's just the way it'll be, its better to be quick at leaving than have someone leaving me. A "safe bubble" is how my friend sees me, a bubble I had gotten so used to that is no longer saving me. I don't write about myself and I don't want you to; I'm not a character for your poem. I'm not an idea of a woman. I'm not an option nor a choice. And if the truth should finally come out; I won't be anywhere near to find out.

When I was six years old my mother used to play this trick on me. Now that I've gotten older I've realised, everyone plays a trick of some sort, but unlike my mother; no one really has good intentions in store.  

I Miss You

I miss you and this feeling I can't shake, it seems all I do is run from you and leave all that I should take. You've given me nothing, and in return I did the same, and here we are stuck in this emptiness we can't name. Nothing but everything, left confused in between, who am I to be anything when the game no longer entertains?

I miss you and I know this doesn't change much, but I'll keep writing it every time hoping for a change in luck. Invest in me and take all that you can take and know that never once have I thought it to be a mistake. I'm here now and I fear its not enough... but I'm here now, I'm ready to open up.

I miss you and I keep recollecting your words for it seems to be the only constant need you've ever showed. I wish you'd stay open for more, I wish you'd stay till you're ready for something more. I wish this time you'd read me and know that I'm not as confused as before.

I miss you and one thing I ask of you
Don't keep me waiting; my only plea for you.