I knew it wouldn’t be much longer. I had been tapping my foot and sitting in this waiting area for what seemed like an eternity. I knew from the moment I saw him that it was already too late. Cupid reared his ugly little pampered butt and straight up shot me through the heart. There was no way I could undo the damage.

“Sebastian,” they told me was his name. I knew once his little grip met with my writhing finger, that this was a bond I hoped would last. A flash of light went off and I looked up just in time to meet the shuttering lens of my niece. She had a good eye for capturing moments in time.

I never thought becoming a grandmother would be so enthralling. My husband grabbed my hand and smiled at me. If there were anything worth living for, this was one of those moments.

“Mom,” I looked up to see my daughter’s sweat drenched face. “You did wonderfully baby,” I answered. I got up from my chair, slowly. “These knees ain’t what they used to be.” Her hubby offered me his arm. “Be careful mom,” he responded as he handed me my cane. I walked over to my daughter who was now cooing Sebastian in her arms. “I am so happy he is finally here,” I bent down to give her a kiss on her forehead.

I never thought this day would actually make it. All those years of tears and the battles I had to overcome to be here today. It all made sense, it was all worth it.

I loved when my daughter would ask me the story of how she was born. I had to admit, it was a most frightening time in my life, but I lived to tell her the story when I would see her eyes light up with wonder. How could I have ever questioned my own existence when everything all adds up to the little moments that we seem to take for granted?

“Here mom, take him for just a moment, I need to rest,” she urged me. I hesitate, but obliged. “Just a moment.” I make motion to her hubby to bring me the unoccupied chair in the corner of the room.

I held that baby like he was the son I never got to raise. His beautiful swollen face resembling his great grandfather, his long fingers reminding me of my sister. I’m sure he had a resemblance of his father too, but for me, seeing my family reborn in this little, tiny baby was everything.

I watched my daughter as she rested. They both slept silently. I used to hold her in my arms just like this and now my grandchild. I sigh and let out a deep breath. What an amazing gift. A tear seems to escape me. What a precious joy. Another tear trickles down my cheek.

My husband is staring me down from the corner of the room and I notice as he lifts his head above his newspaper. He doesn’t think I’d notice, but that glisten in his eye tells all. There comes a time in a marriage when words are no longer necessary. I just give him a look and I can tell he’s smiling, even if it’s hidden behind that darn newspaper of his.

The nurse comes in to let us know some of the extended family has arrived and helps me with the baby. “These old achy bones aren’t what they used to be,” I mention to her as she takes his vitals and checks on my baby girl.

I’m so gosh darn proud of her. So proud.



I don’t know how she continued to do it, but she was a persistent one. I watched her shuffle her papers, and even though she couldn’t shuffle them into a smooth cornered pile, which would have driven me crazy by the way, she had a very regal look to her. She had something I think they call “poise.” I just liked to keep quiet whenever I was around her. I’m not sure what it was, the floating in her walk or how the whole room seemed to still when her eyes fell upon me. I knew from the moment I laid eyes upon her that she would have a very profound impact upon me. Like the sweet tune of a crying baby being lulled to sleep by its mother, and the rushing of waves pouring over boulders and crashing down and rising up again, I could see from afar that everything she was is exactly where I wanted to be.

I could grow wings if she asked me to. I just had to get over the fear of not being adequate enough. Shoot my shot, as some would say. How could I ever manifest myself next to someone so elegant, someone so alluring, someone who deserved so much better than myself?

“Sol” I whispered to myself, “you will be mine, if only in a dream,” but still it was such a beautiful dream to have. I would have to revisit my lingering images and short interactions and one day accept that she would find happiness in another man’s smile, another man’s hug, another man’s kiss. I know I loved her, but she would never know that from a distance, I would would watch and in my aching heart, probably never love anyone again. How cruel of fate to decide that I would wither and die alone.

If only I had it in me to become someone great.

But then again, I am only a woman still finding her place in the world.

“Damnit,” my chunky friend snaps her ugly, stubby fingers in my face. “You’re doing it again.”

Shit, I almost forgot. Line rehearsal is such tedious work. I sit here and literally read through and memorize everyone’s lines. I’m just an extra though. “A townsperson?” I thought as I read the posted casting list. Sol got the lead of course and she well deserved it. That girl had some grit when it came to acting. I secretly envied her, but I already knew what to expect when it came to casting.

I am an awkward, gawky, overweight elementary girl with hair to my knees and deformities all over my hands. If it weren’t for my voice, I would have never gotten this role. Always a supporting character, but I was happy with that. It was much better than being shoved into bathroom stalls and being cursed at by my peers and teachers. I’ll admit, I fought back with my words, but when they accused me of stabbing someone, I knew there was much more sinister work going on around me. I would be sitting in detention constantly for sneezing too loudly in class or having had foot surgery and the teacher thought it funny to make the whole class laugh at my expense for not being able to wear proper shoe attire while my foot healed.

“Snap snap! Wake the hell up girl!” Chunky is fucken yelling at me again. “Dude, you’ve got to get it together, they’re going to need us to start singing again. “Get your skirt on.”

“Oh, this skirt?”

“Yeah, dude” Chunky answers. “That’s the one the teacher borrowed from some grown ass woman to cover your big ass. You’re lucky, my mom had to buy extra fabric for the one I’ve got. You like my boots?”

I hadn’t seen my mom since that morning. I had no idea where she was most of the time since her and my dad split, I just knew home was hell without her there and even if she bought me french toast sticks from Carl’s Jr every morning, I knew that the time I had with her tasted good. Stupid kid, it was weird not being wanted around everyone I turned to.

“Okay, it’s time to hit the stage, this is dress rehearsal afterall,” Chunky grabbed my hand and all I could see was black in the distance and bright blinding lights in my face, if they could see me, I couldn’t see them. But I gave that performance my all…


I could hear her driving her damn wedges into the stairs again. “Oh shit, here she comes.” I shuffle my index cards into their box and place them on the side table next to my bed. I just honestly don’t want anymore trouble. I know in the past I have caused some serious damage which led her to tear into my room and she proceeded to literally rip everything I loved into shreds. Maybe I could run away some day and not have to deal with the terrors of her emotional abuse. Maybe I could hide. “For fuck’s sake!” I spilled the index cards onto the floor. Hopefully this time the fiasco isn’t that bad.

The door practically jumps off the hinges as she tears into my room. It’s obvious she’s been crying. I watch as she paces back and forth and back and forth. I really wish she would just sit down and catch her breath, but something tells me she’s never been one to basque in the idea of resting well. “He did it again,” she screams and I can see she’s hiding her face from me. Why’s she hiding though? “He said he’d never do it again, and look at me, I’ve tried too damn hard and for too long for him to not even give me a call back and let me know he wasn’t going to show!” Oh shit, she’s angry.

Another set of feet up the stairs draw my attention to the door, now swaying back and forth and back and forth. Rozy sits down and instead of the shit storm I thought she was going to tear into my ass, she’s crying with her face in her hands. Shit, I’m just gonna let her right now, I’ve got to get these cards put away. I hop off the bed and just as I am reaching for the last card that flew under the bed, a pair of fuzz slippers are staring me down and I take a deep breath. “What do you want Tizz?”

“Have you seen my toothbrush?” I look up to see her hair tossed in one long dread. My goodness, for sleeping all day, she sure does fit the whole night owl scene quite well. What a wreck. Sometimes I wonder if the boys saw her like this, if anyone would ever take her seriously. Not my place to think such things. “I don’t keep track of your things Tizz. We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Bitch.” She responds. “Last time I ever ask you a simple God damn question.” I knew it wasn’t the last time, but I’ve already learned about Tizz. Let her do her thing and then talk to her about it when she approaches me for some light on the situation.

Jesus Christ, Rozy is still balling her damn eyes out. I just need to study some more, I didn’t pass my exams and the professor has decided to give me a bonus quiz so I can at least get a passing grade.

I’ve been studying for quite some time now.

Being an older woman getting back into the working field after having lost everything I loved is quite the predicament when you have no certifiable training. I once had a beautiful family and now, I get to deal with these crazy ass roommates of mine, it gets quite difficult to keep my head on straight sometimes, I…

“Who the hell put this here!” As I watch her rub her big toe and the snot escaping her nose makes me want to laugh, I grab her a tissue from my bedside table. “Mother fucker! Why does it always have to be me getting hurt!” I don’t have the heart to tell her that her pessimistic views makes it quite hard to want to be around her.

I throw myself onto my bed and flick on my phone. Scroll, scroll, scroll. I still haven’t quite gotten the hang of this social media thing, but it’s even better than TV. This famous person is doing this and this famous person is doing that. Scandal this and scandal that. I really need to concentrate right now, but with all these distractions around me, I’m losing hope.



I’ve got to get out of my own way

There are more people that want me to believe than you could ever imagine.

It doesn’t matter what broke me, it’s only a story of where I’m going.

From felon to infinity, memorizing more than what you thought I’d be

A constant vision of possibilities riding in on this wave

Constantly developing an image for change

I wanna hear you say my name

Detail it out and let me know the scheme

Gotta make sure it all aligns with my dreams

Gotta make sure that you know what I mean


Because I’m on the same train when it comes to developing



Today, I woke up a different person. It didn’t help that the sky was streaked with God’s tears or that the grey clouds worked their magic and choked the very breath in my throat that could no longer escape. Such a cruel trick of the mind to move from side to side and all I could do is to hope to confide in a friend that it was happening again. I need to run. As far away from myself as possible. You see, there is a still hanging gap in memory that keeps me from being able to move. The thought that I could ever hurt anyone in that way makes me feel as though fate has always had it in store for me to return cruelty the way I have felt the pain of alienation since the day I was born. I couldn’t ever begin to realize what love could do for me even if it screamed at me until it was blue in the face and I will never know that feeling. I am unable to fathom this happiness in myself the way others do. The lapse in my mind, the memory of losing everything I have ever loved still burning like a fire in my chest and the memories of having lost hope time and time again.

I have too much time to myself to think, so here I am, a couple days later, revisiting my regrets. Some days I wish I had more self control and then I realize what a mischief I must seem to others to have gotten so far in life and still walk around without a clue. I have been asked if I fear growing up and I have responded. How can something so broken ever grow and become something purposeful. I see fault lines in miscommunication everywhere I look and these blinders, they have me running into walls and I can feel the wearing of this soul growing thinner and thinner. I have no means to respond but with a brutality that has been delivered upon me and called itself love.

The very force of nature that makes this heart beat is crippling in tune with the deliverance of time and watching the withering away of a most giving tree and understanding my fault in all these errs I have made renders me to believe that sustenance would be futile. With an ever changing mind, I seek to reprimand myself for falling yet again and I have to beg for forgiveness and prayers called out once again in the middle of the night no longer let me sleep in peace. I was ever so undeserving of that peaceful sleep. How to go from unworthy to someone who could stand on their own two feet and outlive scandal and shame and the guilt is enough for me to want to bury my head in the sand until you cease to remember I had ever existed? But I did exist. I came to you in the form of a friend, a confidant, and you fully trusted and failedĀ  to remember cruelty existed in the world. Yet again, you fell for a trap.

To what cost would you be willing to risk it all? The fact remains that you are under no obligation to familiarize yourself with a life you lost and yet you cry for that very life under guise of a toothy smile and blank staring wide eyes. To what end would you seek to reunite the time which you stole along with the renewed hope in learning from errors and seeking to right wrongs? I have never known you to be a coward. I have always known you to be brave and courageous. The moment you remember what you have endured so your family wouldn’t forget you and everyday, you hide, wanting to be forgotten and hurting yourself before anyone else has the chance to. What happened to you?

I never want to hurt anyone like that ever again and it’s taking me some time to heal and change the channeling that causes me to want to uproar injustices and make amends for all my wrongdoing. Curses spoken against me and fear always trickling down my spine. I have foreseen all the possibilities of how death could entertain me and yet I have entertained what I assumed to be a for sure death and escaped with a vow I have broken. It’s not worth it all in the long run. I could assign characters again and hide the attempts to shield the experience which left me running and hoping and praying there wasn’t anyone in the world who would ever care enough to die for me. I’d never want that.

I am a ghost that watches passersby and on occasion, I will make a noise that can not be ignored, but mostly, wishing for someone to just hug me and let me cry out all of the confusion. It could become a dangerous drug, but I would risk it if only for a moment to reminisce what I used to imagine could be for me. I don’t know how I am going to make it, but I know I will somehow. I have to.

It’s not very often I am able to get to be this person, being truthful is more a hidden feature of mine. I would never be so vulnerable and I have to keep the wheels spinning. Luck would have it that one day, I could break free from having to encrypt it all, but I am learning everyday to love who I have come to be. How I think is going to help me and I am tired of feeling crippled by inadequacy.

I hate myself for feeling the way I feel.


When you look upon the greatness, did you realize the shifting of your eyes was a dead giveaway to the dishonorable intention behind the extended hand you dealt? Let me know the consolation was rigged from the beginning. Maybe you’ll start to realize that the every intent was to let it be known that in the depths of despair and hopelessness that would be foreseen… was the most engaging precursor to a damage irreparable to be enforced.

Its coded eloquence fall beneath my feet with every step that the ghost of me bears the weight and buries the past in thought. Only a sliver of protection available could deliver the enemies from behind the line that they gaze upon and wonder in awe of the scarred tethers the fates of time have so cruelly held upon. No more the long days will wash away the dirt that has toiled beneath and cried upon elevated mountains of reciprocity and you’d never know the betrayal and still forgive anyway.

Just like the way you’d recognize that the death upon me smelled of liquor and I could comfortingly take that shot and smack away the pangs of urgency. The soul will never approve of such a scheming emergence that would unfurl before me and beg me one day “have mercy” in that meandering adjoined by circumstance and differentiation.

Every melody brings your face to mind, every moment, I slip the ghost a bill and fading away is the harsh, cold truth that the world is no longer full of clear skies… The happening in the admonition of guilt that is tucked away under black billows of deadened night and the gnarly hands that once clung to my body bring the memory of you back to me. I could only separate time once and to separate it any further is to throw myself at the mercies of despair yet again. How could I ever love when the faith that once flowed so freely in me has been shunned and turned away so coldly? My fingernails holding the earth between the skin and I could show you exactly why this essence has escaped me so. No brother, no sister, no mother, no father could streak the skies green in envy and tell me I would be the undoing of such a great empire no longer will the sun shine upon my porcelain shattered so frequently as the sands of time pang the glass and wither away my soul.

My ashes float and when the humming ceases, she already knows my name and remembers to bring me forth and carries me safely beneath a wing of honor and the temple reveals the darkness in my heart is not bitter resentment, but the only tomb of honor from which life may flourish. Look away and know that everyday procession is facing the facts that administering the drug that will remember my true name and bring me to my knees to proclaim and declare every ailment before me that made me put my heart in a coffin only to be met with shots of protrusion and the fear I felt emanating was only the beginning of the end, my dear. I remember and I wish to not forget your untimely betrayal.

Harp my heartstrings yet again until my darkness goes.