Early in the morning, my mom went to work. That’s the way things were now- she had to work. I didn’t mind that she had to work because we spent all her free time together (and even some of her work time). Anyway, I’ve never been one to put a ton of energy or emphasis into a birthday. I got up early that morning and put on my new favorite dress, an early birthday present from my mom. Then, I waited for my father (who I probably still referred to as “dad”) to come pick me up.
When my father texted me that he was outside, I ran out to his car alongside my brother. Since it was my birthday, I said that I wanted to go get my nails done and have lunch at ‘that place that overlooks the lake’. That was alright with him. Oh, and that he should drop me off at Nana’s house because we were having a birthday celebration with the family (everyone except him). “WHAT?!? You don’t want to spend the whole day with me?”, he roared. I tried to explain that I simply wanted to be able to spend the day with all my family, not that I didn’t want to spend the whole day with him. This angered him more. I didn’t know what to do. He was yelling at me and finally stated that if I didn’t want to spend the whole day with him, I should get out of the car. I started crying and he said, ”no really, get out of the car”.
Sobbing, I ran back into the house. My brother followed along shortly after me and I want to say that he gave my father a piece of his mind, but honestly, I have no idea. Maxx, my brother, gave me a hug and told me that we didn’t need him anyway. He called my grandmother, asked her to pick up water balloons, and then pick us up. When we got to her house, we had a really fun time having water balloon fights and food making contests. It was just the true family. Just the ones who really loved me.
That day (and unfortunately many others that ended with me in tears as well) crucially shaped how I viewed my father, but it took awhile for me to hold him accountable for his reckless and rude actions. I learned to never take moments or people for granted and to never surround myself with people who are underservant of my life. My 11th birthday was the last one he was present for, but my 10th birthday was the last one where he gave me a present or even a hug.
As I’m about to be 17, I remember this experience- but I do not let it define me. I simply remember it and learn from it.
My appreciation for the expression of others
comes directly from the need to express myself.
I want to get piercings
and mark up my body
and make it my own.
Not because it’s pretty,
but because it’s uniquely me.
I want to drive at night
with the windows rolled down
blasting Bon Iver or Kendrick Lamar.
It’s a distinctive sensation
to feel the breezy wind
rattling the hair on my shoulders.
I want to wait
until I find a guy
who genuinely likes me
instead of settling for somebody
who doesn’t truly care about me.
I refuse to give into society
and their notion that love isn’t out there.
I want to travel
as often as I am able to
and experience cultures
that are drastically different from each other.
The world is full
of unique cultures and lives,
and I hope to experience as many as possible.
I want to express myself
and appreciate the expression of others.
Without truly listening
and truly understanding,
society is reduced
to a bunch of people wallowing about
alongside each other.
And what good is that?
I want to start putting in the effort
to look people in the eye
when they are talking.
So that I know
what makes them feel
happy, unique, and loved.
I’ve often times asked myself why I got the life I got. I often disregard the good and focus on the bad and I don’t know why. But I do. I wonder why I don’t have two parents who love me and I look the whole families of my friends and wonder why that isn’t me. I told myself it wouldn’t even matter if they were together, it would just matter to have both the people who made me love me. But such is not the case. I have often times looked past the privilege to be able to have no rules and be treated as an adult and categorized it as a burden. I don’t want to go to the grocery store, get a SMOG check, go to the bank, make returns, or pick up prescriptions. I have always wished that my mom would do that for me and be the one in charge of my life, give me some structure. But she doesn’t have an interest in doing those types of things, so nobody is going to do any of that if I don’t. “You can’t rely on others”, she said, but I thought I was supposed to be able to rely on you. I am trying to focus on school and my future, but you don’t seem to care about what I want. You have a picture of how things will be and don’t care at all how I get there because “that’s up to me”. The other parents came to the college nights, make their children do their homework, and ensure they receive the best SAT scores, but you don’t even care about any of that. Instead, you want me to do a million things I do not believe are priorities or important. I have always thought that parents are supposed to take care of their children, not the other way around. But I have realized that this is your way of showing care, the thing where you let me do whatever the hell I want. It’s your way of saying I trust you and believe in you. Sure, it would be nice to have a push every now and then. But that’s not the way it is and I’m trying to accept it.
Only a few lights are on as I start
The music is overpowering my thoughts
I let myself move comfortably
Doing whatever feels natural
I gradually disregard all the technique I’ve been taught
As I try to understand the lyrics
Using myself as a medium
My emotions are set free
Now I can see clearly
My thoughts trail on for miles
I do not choose a single path
I go wherever the movement takes me
e I’m heading towards the fantasies in my mind
They said I can stay for however long I like
If it’s all in my mind
I guess I’ll stay for awhile
I know you’re growing older.
I know I don’t see you every day.
But I care about your future,
way too much to let it slip away.
I constantly act like a mom.
I’m always texting to bother you.
But if I don’t do checkups,
nobody would ever have a clue.
A dropout or a deadbeat,
that might just be you.
But as long as I’m here,
you’ll have somebody to walk through that too.
I’ve seen your behavior numerous times before.
I’ve watched them all follow through.
But I love you like a sister,
which is why I will never let anything happen to you.
while I look into the rain
something captures my attention
I get my glasses
to gaze harder
it isn’t a something
but conversely a someone
he has luring brown hair
strewn crazily around
maybe he is charming
or adventurously brave
will he be a lover
or a friend
or somewhere in between
I grasp my brain
before it can dream too far
simply another illusion
of the precarious could be
How do people know what lies in the unknown? It seems dreadfully black and white.