Intimate failures

Most people think
Self righteousness keeps me company
In the cold.
But they don’t understand how bitter it tastes, like the sourness of anxiety and forebode.
It is believed I have swallowed these pills from the hands of strangers,
But how strange it is to recognize intimately the hands they actually come from.
They cannot be swallowed with anything but cold,
Nor do they move through my system swiftly.
Isolationist propaganda is hung from the support beams,
And the quiet reveals only the echo chamber.
Thoughts clammering for acceptance in a way that is not possible,
Solutions begging for urgency that is not feasible.
Tensions brewing in a way that is not reversible, but perhaps transformative.
A faint outline draws on the tenancity of strength and softness.
How to bend with breaking, even when delicacy sounds every alarm.
And is forgiveness possible if only through the breath in the lungs it reverbates first?
Terrible, giant, uncomfortable necessary
Being an old soul and understanding how to manifest its existence..
Always a test worth failing.
Because thats how you learn you can’t succeed.
Its not the sort of thing you can ever win.
Better is the best score.

Dear Mom,

I wonder when was the last time that someone said to you outloud “I love you”, and that you truly believed it?

I’m not sure what your definition of love is, because I know that it differs from mine. I was able to understand what the words trust, loyalty, and unconditional meant only after several years of defining them for myself. I had to pry them out of the hands of the dark things like struggle, grief, betrayal, and lonliness.

If you were like me once, than I understand why you feel the need to medicate with alcohol. I have never indulged in its effects, but from what I understand, it helps to numb out all of the overwhelming thoughts and feelings. And to be quite frank, there are days, and especially nights when I wish to do that myself. I wish that I could escape.

Its not all about escape, I know, Mom. Especially not for you. Part of the reason I had to pull away from you was because of how the demons would let loose when you drank. Even through the phone lines, they would settle their weight on my heart and my shoulders.

..I was too young then, to comprehend holding up under my own weight, much less bear yours, or anyone else for that matter.

I’m writing to let you know I never left you in anything but love. I just needed to figure out how to love myself first. I would have sunken my own ship if I had remained tethered.

So I left you, I left everything and everyone I had in New York. And it took me years still to understand that I could love myself, and still never leave behind those pieces of myself. I still miss you, and wish things were different.

I still hope that they will be different, someday. Even though I understand now how heavy and solidly swing the hands of time. How hard it is to change. And how we can only do our best to keep going.

With love,