#writingdf

[depressooespresso]

I don’t know who started it first

But my mom and I give each other

“Heart-hugs”

Lining up the center of our chests

And I know this is not where our heart actually is

But from the center of your chest

I feel your life-time beating into my own

I feel the son that you said made you into a family

I see years of baby teeth hidden

behind pillows that you kept like a

secret

i hear

don’t worry

you got this

these are the moments

where she cleans up the cobwebs from the corner of my dreams

moments of facing fears

raw panic

she knows

and then when I tell her this time I really actually need a heart-hug

(and silently tell her that this time is always)

she breathes in my doubt,

arms wrapping around me

with an exhale says,

you got this

just breathe

you got this

When my parents laid down a foundation of love

built from their support, created me a home

My mom showed me a framed note

that read

You got this.

My dad told me,

“it was like Christmas for your mom when she found you that.”

It’s your thing

If our thing Is a daughter

Learning acceptance

Patience

Self-love

From her mother

Then yes

That is our thing.

[frecklesfromthemoon]

I want love; that sunshine is no longer enough for me kind of love. The you’re my morning coffee, sugar coated and filled to the brim; kind of love. Always reading me your newspaper, your thoughts, your dreams, your schemes, kind of love. I want strength; the I trust you, open my heart and you hold it up above the tallest of towers, kind of love. With strength that King Kong once felt, and all of the citizens will watch with envy, kind of love. I want you to rip me open; only to read me as a book that you don’t want to put down, but when you do; you do oh so softly, with delicate hands, you'll always stitch my seams back up, kind of love. I want together, I want touch. I want mouth. I want connections that loop back as cursive.

Frecklesfromthemoon

[frecklesfromthemoon]

He listened to my poems and said, “I love how unapologetic it was” What you don’t know is all of the apologies and I’m sorry’s that came in between.

[frecklesfromthemoon]

If I had the audacity to write about you,

I would write you a letter full of questions.

I would write to ask if you knew how hungry my hands were today.

And if you familiarize yourself.. With the feelings, the feelings of my fingers- their famine? Are we familiar?

Is my mouth hungrier than my lips? They’ve been known to touch, to feel, and grab. Do your lips have midnight cravings?

Some hungers are just easier to fulfill, I suppose .

[frecklesfromthemoon]

When you’re twenty-one years old you’ll have out grown the desire to chase Ghosts around the town you grew up in. You’ll be tired of tracing mapped out conversations, wondering where you took that wrong step. Except it isn’t just one step, it’s a stair case and you let it take you down ,when you should have been looking much, much higher.

[frecklesfromthemoon]

“I am in College
Trying to unlearn everything we have ever done to each other.
Every back lash of the tongue 
Doesn’t hurt anymore
 I am in college Trying to unlearn everything society has shoved down my throat as acceptable. I choke back responses, I apologize. (Unfinished because I am still learning )

Dlf

[frecklesfromthemoon]

We live in the throw-away society, The generation of walking away, Where instead of creating what we lack, we try to buy cheap laughter and a touch on the shoulder. The generation of not knowing how to fix what we have broken.

[frecklesfromthemoon]

We are setting fire to our memories, And I don’t want to burn. There is charcoal on your palms, And flames licking at my hair. Everything we used to love, Has stopped keeping me warm. I no longer burn.

Charcoal prints