Poetry: Bound

Baby given up with no name;

Until someone took her in- shelter from the storm;

Once nameless, now framed with a name;

Adopted by a family, last name changed;

Growing up, a feeling she never could ignore;

Secrets kept, she never once implore;

Memories lost she couldn’t restore;

Bound lost, lonely, abandoned, hopeless, dazed, and confused;

A house that felt like no home;

A family disconnected;

Betrayed of lies;

But one remained hidden deep inside;

Within her heart, a longing she couldn’t sway;

A face once without a name, named.

Had a home.

Had a family.

Had a life beyond some.

Yet, deep within,

A child once nameless,

Could never separate her from reality;

Deep within, her heart bound by

Lost, lonely, abandoned, hopeless, dazed, and confused.

Thanksgiving Day…

Happy belated thanksgiving/turkey day. Happy for us but not for the turkeys day. Mom and I went to a family friend’s house for it. We didn’t celebrate much because Dad passed away this year. Mom didn’t feel like celebrating. But when a family friend invited us over she decided to go.

Mom failed to tell me until last minute that these friends had invited more people over. There, I felt so uncomfortable. My anxiety started kicking in. It didn’t help when someone sat next to me on the couch and another who knew her sat right next to her making this person move closer to me, bumping everytime. Could this be used as an example of Liminal? Googling today’s prompt- “occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.” They were on one side while I nice decorated pillow occupied the tiny space I had left on the edge.

Anyways, I immediately got up and squeezed through the nearest table because I felt like I was losing air and couldn’t breathe. I know that’s rude. But hey, I want my space, especially when I never met you.

The whole time I stood around. My family friend did try and talk to me a little. Mom made new friends mingling. One or two of them did try talking to me.

Then, the time came for separating the older people from the youngest at the tables (basically adults from the kids, but there were no “kids”). They used some as an example. And they brought me up saying I can sit with my mom- since… (a little pause and a bit of a whisper they say) “I don’t know anyone there.” That made me feel even more worse.

Watching everyone chit chatting away, I thought, “Why cant I do that?” Why cant I just start a conversation? Or better yet, keep one going once someone else started it!

That was my Thanksgiving. How was yours?

Lyric: Just Me

A warrior’s heart is beating in my chest.
Don’t care that you ask
The past is already laid to rest.
You can open me up,
But I’ll never tell.

If it’s walk or talk,
I’d rather you walk.
I’m sorry that’s just me.
I’ve been this way
And will never change-
It’s plain to see.

A stubborn lil girl walking on this earth.
Heart of lonely tears,
A mind that erased all those years.
You can say what you want,
But I’ll never tell.

If it’s walk or talk,
I’d rather you walk.
I’m sorry that’s just me.
I’ve been this way
And will never change-
It’s plain to see.

If you don’t like what you’re hearing,
Why stay here believing
That we could be anything.
Hurtful words said and done.
Might as well just go and run.

Go and run…
(Run…)
Go and run…
(Run…)
Go ahead, go ahead
Run, run…
Go ahead, go ahead
Run, run, run.

You might as well-

If it’s walk or talk,
I’d rather you walk.
I’m sorry that’s just me.
I’ve been this way
And will never change-
Yeah, it’s plain to see

That if it’s walk or talk,
I’d rather you walk.
I’m sorry that’s just me
And that’s who I’ll ever be.

Prompt: Graceful

Last few weeks, watching the kids play, I been noticing certain girls wanting to teach dance to their friends. They come and tell me how no one wants to play with them. To which I ask, “Did you even ask them to play?” Their response, “No.” Then, I tell them how I can’t help them when they didn’t try. I tell them they need to ask because no one can read their minds. Sometimes they run away asking, other times they stand there looking confused. Kids.

One day I asked them what are they planning on playing because when I suggest some kids to ask to play with, they say no, they don’t want to ask them. They look embarrassed or weirded out in asking those kids (mainly the boys). The girls tell me excitedly they are dancing. And they need two more two teach it.

I’ve seen two of the girls when they teach dancing, they are very picky about how their classmates are standing. If their classmate moves from that position, the girls would immediately go back to them and move them to the correct position.

It’s not just the younger age group of girls dancing, it’s also a few of the older girls; however, the older kids don’t get as picky on positions and move their friends to the position they are telling.

I watch how the kids turn so gracefully and sway to a tune in their heads. The older kids hum the tune sometimes. The younger kids, most of them don’t. If you ask them to sing a song, some of the kids in the younger age go quiet. A lot of them don’t like the spotlight and yet, they’ll dance right there in front of everyone.

It’s fun watching the kids have fun. They do work all morning in the classroom and their routine is about the same everyday- it can get rather boring. Play time they can run around outside, climb on the jungle gym or the monkey bars for the older kids. They can express themselves.

Graceful

Help Me, I’m Haunted

It’s been 6 months since you passed. Bits and pieces every now and then still taunt. How you invited me to go when no one else did. Yet, I still said no. If I hadn’t, would you still be here? Would everything be different?

Memories no longer front and center. Instead, life facaded. Left in a box, Pandora’s box, somewhere deep within my mind is you- afraid to open.

Flood of plagues when we disagree, storms of fear and terror rage, gust of rain on happy years… it’s all over. But the memories, once facade, still remain somewhere deep within my mind. And forgetting you, I fear.
Facade
Disagree

Prompt: Pretend/An Angel Takes Her Wings

Last night around 10PM, my mom got a call. She had just went to bed and the phone rang. Normally, I don’t bother asking who called. This time, I did. I don’t know why.

She said Meadville Aunty had passed away. That made me sad because I remembered this Aunty vaguely. The one memory I remember is how she used to make cheesecake for my brother and I knowing we were visiting.

My mind also remembers a little of her laughter and how she talked. I can hear the sound of her voice in my head a little.

Pretend is the daily prompt for today. How does this relate to it? Well, I remember when my Dad passed away. Everything felt so real. He’s gone. Tears of sadness, heartbreaks, joy of no suffering and knowing he’s in heaven.

But life ticks away. There’s no time for mourning, that’s how I feel. Everything is just pretend or fake. I faked my happy smile just to get by at work.

Walking into work the very next day after the funeral, the owner had thanked me for coming in. The day of the funeral, the director of the previous job I worked at told me she needed a month off after her Dad’s passing. I didn’t know how to respond.

I needed that. But I couldn’t have that. I had to keep going- not just for money reasons, for health as well. If I took a break for one second, I felt I’d drown. Depression would take its toll. All I could do at home was sleep, think and cry about Dad and the past memories.

I have felt this fake/pretending to be happy before. And after awhile it starts weighing on me, which is where I’m at now. And I don’t know how to stop pretending that everything’s fine.