Mammi

You used to call me mammi.

I came across an old email from you, and it still warmed me to see your opening line…’hey mammi…’

It’s been 9 years almost since you were laid to rest, since I said my silent goodbye to you.

But today, memories roared up suddenly and quickly, pushing me to recall how we met and how you left.

Grief, someone said, has no expiration date.

You used to call me mammi.

And you used to make me feel some type of way.

But grief still haunts my heart when it comes to you and how you left us.

I miss you.

Untitled

I want to remember who I was.

Before fragility invaded my insides,

tossing about and razoring my core,

leaving behind scabs on scabs that

my core gingerly balanced on,

holding itself up pretending all

was right when a puff of breath

could bring it all down,

scabs cracking as the core crumbles

and it all comes into the light.

Broken.

Doesn’t feel like you thought it would.

Instead, it feels like nothing you’ve

felt, touched or tasted before.

The fire with which it hits you can

and will burn you…

Just depends on the intensity & depth

that you, that I, shall allow it.

I want to remember who I was.

But the fire swept through, burned.

All of that me is gone, ashed out.

Never got to say farewell.

21

I hesitated, not wishing to call it out.

My cards splayed out on the table,

the dealer looking at me expectantly

…and you?

Your cards are held close to your chest

and I cannot tell what floats in your eyes,

and the dealer perhaps knows,

but His face remains neutral.

You steal glances at me,

perhaps looking to see what cards I hold,

and I gather myself over them, Continue reading

Thread

A thin thread of something unnamed

hangs tautly between us,

spooled and fueled,

growing in intensity,

but also requiring

strong consideration

for interspace

and pragmatism.

But this thread that spools

so deliciously, calling

and pulling on invisible threads,

is of the sweet, unexpected kind.

The most dangerous thread

of all.

 

 

 

Muse

Over the last two weeks, I have run into your closest friends. They did not recognize me at first sight. I don’t blame them. I have changed in the last 9 years. The last time they saw me was when we were lowering you into the ground in November of 2010.

One looked old.

I smiled at them. One, I introduced to my son.

And the smiles they gave back. I reminded them of a very difficult time.

And it reminded me of a very challenging time.

That time introduced me to myself, cemented and attached me to reggae forever and changed my belief system when it came to certain relationships. Death invaded my life in a way it had never been able to do before. Yours was the first funeral I had ever Continue reading

Bare

Lay yourself bare

soul to the light

eyes like the sun

peering at you

and what you hold inside

 

Lay yourself bare

layers peeled back

slight but open

waiting to be seen

for that acknowledgement

that nod of yes

 

Lay yourself bare

but remember that

with that joy of being seen

you open up to the

pain of remaining invisible

the heartache of no reciprocity.