Year 5.

Been sitting with myself again for these past few weeks since my birthday. 

So sick of clinging onto these walls attempting to make use of what little is left of this space.

Realized it’s not really change if it’s fueled out of resentment.

Time to move on, this room has gotten too small.

I’m growing and to grow up I must acknowledge my regrets.

I don’t want to miss out on birthdays anymore.

I want to be present, be there for my loved one’s celebration at creating life.

Drink to celebrate and not regress to relive old memories.

Tears gushing out like bumblebees out of a honey hive.

At the sudden passing of my grandmother.

Drink to celebrate and not regress to relive old memories.

The colors fading from her hands first.

My eyelids look like bubblegum.

Lately I can’t get a hold of my mother.

Seeing my mother lose her sister and her mother in the turn of a season,

Is a different kind of hurt.

It slips my mind

How old my mother has gotten.

That my mother just isn’t my mother.

She’s her own entire person.

I see it come true and truer by the years.

Love becomes children-like,

Forgiving and wondrous.

As we get older, we need to be cared for again and be held more.

Asking higher powers,

For a strengthen state of being

To be here for myself

So that I can be there for her,

Be there for others.

con’t.

longing for future me.