[] the summer my mother told me i was finally taller than her, the smell of the sun and the caress of the breeze, something about it was painfully warm. then blue. then pink, sunsets painting the wet pavement that will evaporate when the morning rises with the heat again, birds singing as her hair softly sways in the wind like she was always part of the wind. the summer. the sunlight and everything that smells sweet and tastes like honey. even in her absence there is home in her memory
my brothers came by, older than theyve ever looked with lines etched on the corners of their sunken eyes, pleaded for help with the smell of whisky and resignation on their breaths. there's something different, something worn and older about the way they looked now, immaturity and youth stripped cruelly in the throes of adulthood where responsibilities for everything and yourself lied. mother wouldve helped. i am not my mother, i am the one who simply carries her name like a prayer
and maybe thats enough. i wont be her. i will never be her. my edges sanded blunt and rough but never gentle the way she was round, carrying a heart of gold so heavy one day it would drop through her and that was that. a thursday morning call that felt like two worlds collapsing inbetween grief and setting plans for the funeral. i carry her heart now, it is not mine but i hold it in the same cage the very beating thing that keeps me alive is in.
her photograph glints in the far corner of my wall, curving a small smile that felt so private it was only reserved for me. mother and her three children. her favorite daughter and her two sons. abrasive unbecoming and yet she traces every scratch and rough surface on the calluses on my skin and the scars on my forearms through the wind
when the light–rising or setting— hits it particularly, you could see it. the exhaustion and the shadow underneath and inside her eyes, carrying burdens of three and herself and her body and her mind. nothing couldve anchored her here no matter how hard ive had to scratch her so i couldnt let go. it was what it was
theres a sadness in the heat. summer etched with fine lines on my face and worn fingers indented from carrying cigarettes and pens. i will never feel the same as i did when i was young, i will never feel as i will when i am old. i have her smile, her eyes, the same gray streak shes had far too early from the weight of it all, i will never be as soft as kind as gentle as warm but theres a raspy comfort in the knowledge i will willingly share her fate
i will follow her the way she did, the sun in her eyes and her grip unwavering []
"this reminds me of that gut-wrenching feeling i used to experience back then" damn bro not me tho ive completely learned to ignore past feelings which is aided by my lack of emotional permanence and refusal to acknowledge what was once painful good for u tho
im not gonna pretend you felt like magic even with the gap of my own insane musings and you and your own world and you like him and hes a Him and i am a girl and you are straight and no amount of spite i carry will reverse it but still. you were nice. you were an experience. you were catalytic and you were everything. thank u for entering my life. you dont need to do anything else
me after genuinely annoying everyone with my insufferable fucking personality that i cannot pinpoint what is wrong with therefore i am annoying and i cant even change it
