Andrea Cummings
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Stories (19)
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Dear Mother
Dear Mother, It has been 10 years since we have talked, but I want you to know that, not a day goes by that you do not cross my mind. I am forty-one now and so much has occurred in the last ten years. First, genetics finally caught up with me. You were twenty-five when you had your first heart attack- I was lucky to dodge the bullet till thirty-nine ( I guess I was doing something right- insert crying laughing emoji) After two heart attacks with a coding incident, one pacemaker, six blood clots and taking a handful of pills on purpose daily- I am happy to announce that I am still here to continue seeing your grandchildren who are now fifteen and sixteen, make it to adult hood. I say this because, with the uncensored reality of my mortality -there is something vital I need you to know before we see one another. I know the day will come, and we will be face to face, so I want to clear the air, so we can start our second relationship fresh.
By Andrea Cummings4 years ago in Confessions
A Heart Stopping Rebirth
The calm and surreal darkness enveloped me, as I eased into the tender embrace. I felt at peace as I was lulled by the silent void as I reflected on the moments leading to my slumber. It began with the abrupt disturbance, as the weekly fit of diarrhea and vomit session overcame my dreams- jolting me from the much-needed sound slumber. It had been three months since I was first plagued with the anomaly that was now considered the new norm. It never gave me the courtesy of daytime visits – no, that would have been too courteous and convenient. Every week like clockwork, right as my REM sleep was about to kick in, the terrible twosome made their malicious intents known; coupled with the three-month chest and left arm pain that I had chalked up as stress- I knew it was going to be a long night as I ran to the sanctuary of the bathroom.
By Andrea Cummings4 years ago in Longevity
Red Lady
She's the elegant cliche of dangerous, foxy ladies/The way she drapes their body's gives them super powers to make men blind, crippled or crazy/ Red Lady- even when you stand alone, people can't help but stare at you/ Emotions overload- but you can't help what you do/ The ambassador of love- a star of their own holiday/ The crimson mistress who's a trophy to victors of sword art or gun play/ She's the rusted razor blade that can be the means to your end/ Stopped by words of you matter- from the red glossed lips of your girl or your friend/ A timeless classic who's been present before walking man/ Stories tell of your healing when you dripped from our Messiah's hands/ You are one- but your army of personalities are many/ Sweet and loving one minute-blink-then your anger's unhinging/ A never ending force and source of how we begin to in and exhale/ When you grow silent and cold- you bring the end of our life's tale/ I know you well and a magnificent teacher you've been/ Personifying the joy of life and love- then adorning caskets of family and friends/ Life, love and end - Red Lady, forever apart of me/ I beg you- stay please, cause if you leave- then I'll no longer be.
By Andrea Cummings5 years ago in Poets
The Dog Park
As the blinding brightness draws closer, I’m captivated by the beauty of the eerily impending danger-mesmerized by something that I can’t stop; but may have unwittingly set into motion. I’ve heard before you die your life flashes before your eyes. I’ve never believed it- how many people do you know that died have lived to tell you about it? But today I get to see if the myth lives up to the hype.
By Andrea Cummings5 years ago in Humans
