Our routines are my favorite
A kiss goodbye
And then,
When I wake up
itās only a few hours before I have
you in my arms again.
It makes me fearful
knowing how quickly routines
can be broken
Regression to the mean
Not today Justin
YOU ARE THE REASON
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ā

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@amoonmadeofflowers
Our routines are my favorite
A kiss goodbye
And then,
When I wake up
itās only a few hours before I have
you in my arms again.
It makes me fearful
knowing how quickly routines
can be broken
Regression to the mean

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All in due time
When I was in elementary school
I told my mother I wanted to go to Cornell
She smiled and told me she knew I could do it,
I just needed to work hard and get good grades.
Easy,
I thought to myself,
and then I can finally leave this hellhole
I'm forced
to call home.
When I graduated high school
I was sixteen
Too young to understand the world I lived in
And yet not old enough to ignore it.
I told my mother I wanted to go to Tulane
But this time she shook her head
And said
After all Iāve done for you
You think you can just leave?
When I finally did leave I drove West
and
After everything
I think I am grateful my path was
blocked
The clink of our rings blinds me for a moment
"Why do you keep saying you love me?" I ponder
aloud;
part curiosity and
part anxiety.
"Because I think the last time you were here, in this
place mentally, no one reminded you
you weren't alone.
In fact I don't think anyone has ever told you they
love you enough."
You're trying your best to make up for the lack
you chuckle a little,
kissing my temple,
And for a moment,
Iām not tensing my shoulders so
much
You breathe a little deeper,
Settling into the outline against me
And I wonder when I'll start to feel whole again
Itās Friday at 9:51 pm
Our corner of the world is quieter than normal but
we still have no more answers than we did
A week ago when we rushed to the
Emergency room
āThe good news is heās not dying today so he can
go homeā
āI heard youāre not happy with your care.ā
The doctor brushing us off
Another ER.
Another doctor saying not dying today.
A referral.
An apology from the specialist for the treatment in
the ER.
Still no answers
I fight for who I love
And I wonāt watch another one deteriorate in
front of me again and do nothing
An Ode to Miss Lady
I think
when I was little
watching the kids not listen to the adults,
I knew somewhere deep down that this is what
peace would look like.
My oldest stray sleeping so
soundly next to my husband of
less-than-six-months that when he
plays with her feet she doesnāt even wake up.
I look around and all I see is love.
In every corner of every room there is
love.
From family members to
church members to
friends who had never met me
but have had the honor of watching
my husband grow into the man I adore.
From the three cats
I have managed to keep alive for almost six years.
Mine and his things all together in a collaboration
of love.
My 15 year old stray cat twitches in her sleep and
my husband comforts her.
She lets him.
This is what peace looks like.

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When I was younger, I was richer
my mother was the Torch Lady and my father
A surgical technician.
By the time I was 10 years old I
wanted to be a ballerina
My mother was a nurse and my father
Poorer for it.
I was older. More mature for my age. Abused.
By the time I was 16 I
lost the love of my life (she was born in 1932)
My mother had rebuked me and my father
was too quiet.
I was stronger. Shrieking. Screaming. Fighting like hell.
By the time I made it to 21 I
realized the world was cruel (not the way she said it was)
My mother was disappointed and my father
was a coward.
I survived. Through it all, I made it.
By the time I turned 25 I
met a piece of my puzzle
He fits perfectly
My mother doesnāt know him and my father
never will.
I am brave. I am fierce. I am not afraid.
Sometimes I wonder what they say when people
ask how their
youngest daughter is but then I
remember how easily they lied to me and I know
the answer.
There's a fire inside of her.
She smiles and her insides burn with sadness.
Tears burn into her cheeks
as she hears what people say.
Her stomach grows smaller each day
she refuses to live.
Her face shows only a little of how she truly feels.
She doesn't feel like she can be herself.
He has water in his lungs.
Each day it grows closer to the end.
Then he sees her.
Her eyes more beautiful than the night sky.
She's pulling him toward her
as a bee searches for honey.
Their bodies collide and
books spill everywhere,
and you can see his water
put out the fire in her heart and
make everyone see her
Finally
Today I met six year old you in a doctors office
I wasnāt sure it was him until you put your head
on my shoulder and I felt you relax just a bit.
You havenāt been feeling well.
Weāve been fighting.
Life has been heavier than it should be in the first
few months of a marriage
But thatās not on us
truly
Itās all just been shit circumstances.
So I lay my head down gently on yours before they
call us back.
When I was a little kid my nurse of a mother drilled
into me and my sister how to explain to doctors
whatever it was we were feeling.
Mother wasnāt kind or gentle with her teachings
so we both learned quickly how to fend for
ourselves.
Sometimes I forget that your mom was so busy
trying to make sure you werenāt being left out
that she never realized you werenāt at the same
starting line to begin with.
She never prepared you to know how to
communicate
And sure
eventually she got you some help
But fourteen in neurodivergent years is an adult.
You were already grown.
I watched you jump on the scale and you were
just a bright eyed little boy I see in the photos back
at your parents house when we visit.
I worry about you.
I donāt say that enough.
You crack some joke
you think that if you take yourself seriously
someone might see through the performance
you think youāve perfected.
But I see you.
I always have.
I didnāt wave goodbye when we walked away but
honestly Iām glad I got to see him.
Meet him.
Thank you.
I relapsed today
I couldnāt meet your eyes as I grabbed my things
trying to run from my problems:
You said youād do this eventually. You made me
promise to stop you.
My own self-awareness always was my downfall.
I blink a few times to clear my vision,
You can come
with me.
You nod and gather your things.
My face begins to feel warm and now the tears
wonāt slow
Baby
You hold my shaking body against your firm one.
The mirror to our left shows my face is red and
puffy and you are concerned about me but all I
know is you got hurt because you love me and
that terrifies me more than anything.
So I ran.
I love that
in the middle of the night
if my hand reaches for your skin
and perhaps you feel me
searching for you
you plant me where I can feel your heartbeat
So I know youāre here and
that whatever terror filled my dream
you are real
and you love me
and youāre not leaving

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Because of you
I donāt have to flinch at softness
anymore
it was truly beautiful to watch
You
take in the art
today
at the museum
with me
I enjoyed it
but the real art was
falling in love
just a little bit more
as I watched art
admire art
I see myself smiling at you like a little kid
and I have to catch my breath
Joy has never been this simple before
And yet you are
the most complicated feeling I have ever
felt against my skin
Have you ever been in love?
Do you want to know what it feels like?
Give me your heartbeat and Iāll give you mine
And weāll see how long each other lasts
I promise Iāll win.
Two gold rings
Clink on a metal laptop
My hands rub in the lotion between my fingers
when I feel the wind shift
I donāt move
I wait to see if my heart skips
It doesnāt.

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āThis is joyā
I order my best friend a venti strawberry açaà refresher made with water
Light ice
We sit at the table in the corner,
Outside, with the least sunbeams shining on it.
Her knee rests against the table as I strike a match,
lighting up the pre roll that made her arrive a bit later than usual
The silence fills the air between us but we donāt mind
We never did
Not even in the beginning
There was never much room for small talk
Or anything more than whimsy
And love
A friendship like ours is unmatched
Irreplaceable
We decide to grab pizza on our way home and
we write on the inside of the box
A junk email from God
Subject: Adverbs to Avoid
ā¢never
ā¢always
ā¢forever
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