Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You Were Never Really there…and you’re not here now. As a mother myself I know the role by action verses by default how I was made to as a child. Did you really die without saying goodbye? I suppose living never acknowledging me tracks. I always thought your dark skin was beautiful; I wanted to look like you on the outside during the ages when Dad found you attractive or better yet during the time you found yourself attractive.

I only ever remember the Johns…Raheems and Daddys I heard you call that were not my own. Wasn’t hers either. Wasn’t his either. But, they’re still my siblings; in her blood no longer by the stability of kinship. Fuck kinship. Was anger always also apart of my family or was she only allowed at thanksgiving? I remember when I bought my own presents for Christmas; you ho ho ho’d while we were hungry. While I was hungry: I always made sure they ate…remember you telling me happy Mother’s Day before my prince. The chicken or the egg was us. Our story. Our lovingly hurt union of eldest and birth giver. Who first?

I do love you; I always did but could you have said goodbye?! If you were leaving forever how come you never stayed at all. I asked you did you love me; the honesty of no made my honesty of yes.

Adulting to now no one wants me as an adult with the kid abandoned inside. You took care of the person who infected you but not the children you affected. Do I blame substance or trauma or simply you?! Isn’t you me? Was I ever a child of yours or did you call me mommy because I was mature or because I don’t see the hierarchy of us spiritually…the chicken doesn’t eat eggs because bacon is better not because it’s relevant but because it doesn’t destroy families. In taste and circumstances; meat just say bye next time. Veganism how I see it ain’t for the faint of funeralism.

Is the word really about Veganism or funeralism or any ism; it’s about the partners I grew with and for. I mean no harm to animals or minds.

The couple/Tr and me. When I’m checked in duo format it feels special and worthy of magnetism at such an early rise in my sexual adventure. It’s called “adventure” now…at least by me and what I hope that will keep me. Hard joining something where you don’t really know anything but what you’re told…as who you are is uni(important) or impossible to really have without transparency. T-mobile couldn’t even discount that thought on a Tuesday; they took everything full price. Now what do I do with the who that I am. Suffer? Yea…suffer! How do I pull holy from my sin anyway.? I really do wanna be seen.

If I don’t exist how do I repair? Queer as masculinity I uphold and account for those I hurt next week but maybe I’m thinking the wrong that is right right now.

I don’t understand myself or what I’m doing because who am I? Why am I? So I exist here or in his narrative of me. So he only invest in my reality when I make his claim? No insurance would cover the fake future of it all. I’m alarmed. I’m quiet. I’m overthinking and estimating that a man is what he thinks. No wonder I shrunk myself to that power that isn’t me. Being a woman as I am is much more…I grew balls within my walls never being his parental figure but I am one.

Apparently languaged not enough as a single (unicorn) aren’t unicorns one of a kind though? What’s kinky about sharing what no one ever shared with you? So many layers, players and ice cream to eat.

So sweet.

I should maybe stick with reading as writing is writing a me only imagined gold with human tendencies.

Goodnight