Writing

collection of my poetry and short stories

Posts tagged personal
Did you miss me?

I missed you too. I'm sorry that I have been away but I thought today would be a good time to drop a line or two about what I have been on. I've been hiding but mainly scheming. I'm 27 today and I laugh and cry a little at that thought. A lot has changed and a lot has stayed the same all at once, much like how time forces itself onto humans.

So I'm 27 and I'm not as sad as I usually would be on my birthday. Matter of fact, this is the first time in a long time where I realize how much my hard work has paid off. I'm tired half the time and I cry a lot more nowadays but I'm glad my body is reacting more to the human experience. I hope next year around this time, I'm basking in a new city and reaping the fruits of my labor. 27 is decent thus far.

 

November

There was no screaming, yelling, or apologies. I half expected us to have a shouting match but we looked at each other and nodded in appreciation. I'm sure the entire bar felt our reunion. I remember my friends telling me that whenever we were both in the room, everyone would feel our intensity. We would glow in each other's presence whether we were aware of it or not.

 I must admit, you brought out the best in me. I truly loved you even when my words stuttered in fear trying to express it or when I was too stubborn to return your kiss at the bookstore. The best thing about us was that we were so similar. Too carefree about details that needed to be completed and too stubborn to admit when we wanted to be loved more. We were both the same to the point that we stopped trying. 

You took up so much space in my head and heart. 

But it's been forever and all that space that I had for you I have created for someone else - myself. And it took some time because I didn't want to give you up. Typical Lisa. Stubborn and petty. Always trying to make every "no" to a "yes" without the consideration of reality. But I could honestly say that giving you up, I finally understood what all those stupid Drake songs meant and what people have been singing/writing about for the first time in forever. You reintroduced me to me and for that I am so thankful.

I am so proud to have loved you.  

Mother Of Mine

I'm afraid for her as much as I fear for myself. I fear that I will be plagued with these same battles my mom stubbornly refuses to let up. I fear that she would make me her commander in these long drawn fist fights that I refuse to fight. Cause I'm tired and worn out too. I'm tired of fighting the battles my mom has created for me at a young age. Battles that have left me so mentally fucked that sometimes I wonder how I'm still functioning. 

But that is what happens when your mother looks at you with disappointment and hope. The odd combination of "What did I do to make you turn out this way" and "You have the highest potential to be better than yourself". Those are the two parallels I've always fallen into and to be honest, shit is never going to be different. As the days go by and her face is worn from years of wisdom, I'm scared my mom will leave this physical world without confronting herself. Confronting the notion that she may be mentally ill and that her mind doesn't collapse once in a while when she thinks about what her life use to be. That is what I fear that my mom will one day, sooner rather than later won't be able to recognize herself and have closure. 

Playgrounds

Maybe my sentimental self is coming out after a glorious 24 hours of being 24 or maybe I'm having my own moment of clarity. Regardless, I'm learning to navigate parts of my soul yearning to be held. Nourishment.

Is it our age that makes it incapable for us to commit? Or is it the fear that people won't accept us at our weakest? To me it's both and both ideas are heavily tied to our expectations of what vulnerability should look like and how it should be navigated. First and foremost, I want everyone to drop the word "should" from our theories of life, inner peace, love, pursuit of happiness, sex, and food (like Hot Cheetos). Why? Because...*sighs annoyingly*

SHIT DOESN'T ALWAYS WORK OUT THE WAY WE WANT 

To literally create a checklist and have someone fully accomplish all those things is not only unrealistic but painful. No one not even yourself will ever be able to check everything off. No matter how much you try, run, skip, whatever...you will fall and fail. And it's okay. It may not feel okay but you will be okay. Cause when you fall and look at your skinned knees, bloodied knuckles, and dirt covered nails, you will see the world more like a playground than a battlefield. 

Vulnerability is not easy. It's not easy giving anyone that key to that dark space. But what do you expect to happen when you let someone walk in? That they are just going to glide in and magically know what the fuck to do? That they are going to Google maps their way around? Nah. Wrong. 

Entering any sacred space is not an easy. Matter of fact, it's going to be quite painful in the beginning and will sting like hell. But let people wander anyways. Because the moment you pull them back or shut yourself down, you're only building more walls. And what's there to love about a wall? What's there to see beyond concrete? Nothing. It's just another large area of mass shielding our souls from nourishment. 

So when people bump the walls, stub their toe, and curse out their frustrations in vain...forgive them. Forgive them and love them anyways for it. Because to let someone in on the journey, to open the door and have something really stir your soul, you have to let them create their path.