I’m the smart one,
They always say.
But I can’t spell February
Without whispering it under my breath.
It takes me five minutes.
To spell a word
And a whole day
to spell out what I need.

I don’t know how to do my taxes.
But I know how to call the pharmacy.
I know how to sit beside red,
Old and stubborn,
And blue,
Young and breaking.
I know how to translate pain
Into prescriptions,
How to smile when I want to scream
Into a pillowcase.

I’m only 21.

I want to kiss someone
because I like them,
Not because I’m running out of time.
I want to be drunk in a parking lot,
Laughing about nothing.
I want to have a boyfriend
And forget to text him back.
I want to dye my hair and regret it.

But they need me.

They say they’re fine—
But it’s 102 degrees inside
And I’m sticking to the floor.
If I stop moving,
I might melt.
I might disappear.

There’s only one of me.

I was supposed to be the baby.
Now I baby everyone else.
I rock the house to sleep
With grocery lists and gas bills.
No lullabies, just stopping an argument
No cartoons, just stopping a meltdown

I want
A life where I can be
Irresponsible.
Where I can be loud,
Messy, wrong.
Where I don’t have to be
Strong
To be loved.

I want a life that doesn’t only begin
After everyone else’s ends.

Stripping the sheets that took away a soul
Life goes on we just replace it with a new one

Monthly by monthly days go by
Its not always sunshine and rainbows oh my
The fragile soul that was left here to rest
Will forever be ingraved here in my head.

Goodbye forever and may you rest in peace
I will remeber you all piece by piece

He taught me so much
When no one really cared
He loved me as his daughter
When no one else was there.
He was my mentor
And later my caregiver
He was an amazing person
My half sister's father
(The only thing we had in common
Was our mother)
And he always told me
There was something wrong with her
He had known
That she was his daughter
The reason he fell from grace
But he still loved her
Though she betrayed the human race
His cold blue eyes
With warm rusty hair
Cool toned skin
My mentor
Mr. Carver

Caregiver,
You came into our family
As a river of hope.
Ever flowing, always there,
Providing loving care,
So we could cope.

Caregiver,
You became an uncaring taker.
With your undue influence
You spent her money
On your own selfish wants.
Under false pretenses, you dragged her along daily,
Using her vehicle for your own personal errands.
Like a foe you fought our family
As we became wise to your machinations.
And when your goose was finally cooked,
Your last act was to vandalize in secret,
Leaving her heart broken.

Oh, Uncaring Taker,
How unconscionable were your actions.
How hateful you became.
Why were you this way?
How I would like to make you pay,
But it's her wish to leave it this way.

“Take care of yourself first.”
That’s what we told my mama
When my daddy had his strokes.
Seven long years by his side,
Caring for his body, paralyzed.
Fearing for her health we said:
“You can’t take care of daddy
Till you care for yourself first.”
That’s what we told my mama,
Until my daddy died in 1985.

“Take care of yourself first.”
That’s what I told my wife
When her mom’s simple operation
Became a septic laceration.
As she tirelessly cared for mom
I feared for her well-being.
“You can’t take care of mom
Till you care for yourself first.”
That’s what I told my wife,
Until her mom passed on in 2011.

“Take care of yourself first.”
That’s what my wife told me
As my mama slowly wasted away,
Physically, mentally, emotionally.
And we willingly provided the
Loving care that she deserved.
“You can’t take care of mama
Till you care for yourself first.”
That’s what my wife told me,
Until my mama left the scene in 2015.

Take care of yourself first
When you experience the worst,
For if you fall apart, for certain
You’ll be someone else’s burden.

Grieve not the present
We had yesterday, always
Pluperfect goodbye

I send forth soft touch,
Hoping to heal the damage,
Done by another,
In another time.
I dash against a hard soul,
Feel the dull edge of rock,
Rip rough gashes,
And gouge me deep.
Tear the tender fabric
Of my heart.
I retreat, bleeding,
Sorrow filling my soul
So full that I stagger,
Leaving a smeared trail
Of lost hope.
I slowly stand straight,
Anger rising,
And view the drying outline
Of the trail.
Like the ice cold barrel of a gun
Pressed to my breast
Hatred freezes me.
I stop.
The target is on my own heart,
And the finger on the trigger
Is my own.
And then I see,
That I am needed again.
Not wanted, only needed.
I feel compassion, detestable,
Well up within me.
And I return.
I send forth soft touch,
Knowing full well,
How perfectly the dull-edged rocks
Match the scars on my heart.
There is no justice.
There is no 'fair.'
There is only the return.