(ft. an ugly walking stick my kids call “uncle shelby”)

buried my mom in her favorite spot to smoke cigarettes. now i have a private place to grieve her. i come back here and cry about the times i was rude to her, the way she changed with years of disrespect flooding her mind. i grieve her family that i hate deeply. i grieve the chances i gave them to behave like family since i’ve returned. I grieve my brother. i feel all of the hate they had for each other. i grieve his daughters i never got to help. i grieve hating his pig wife who smoked so many cigarettes inside this house the walls drip. i grieve the 3 cats they left here in cardboard boxes, scared and starving. I grieve my aunt telling me i’m too negative to be around. It has got to be so nice to live a life stable enough to not need to learn to drive a car, just a perfect little bubble of zero friends and rude shit to say. I grieve my own friends begging me not to change for the worse. i grieve the time i spend away from them so im not forcing them in my presence. I grieve my shit ass dad returning to my life to quickly die. I grieve that i told him he’s only talking to me because he’s at the end of his guilt ridden life. i grieve these little photos of me he kept in his wallet. why would you do that. i grieve my sexual assaults and having no dad to tell about it. no safe place to visit let alone live. i grieve my grandmother having to be my father so much to the point she is exhausted with me and has never enjoyed my company since adulthood she only worries about what i’m going to do next.

I cry back here most mornings until I wake up. Until i can finally leave. Until Nana passes away or the house sells. I grieve having no home that welcomes me. Every location I stand has a time limit. I grieve that. I never thought I would be left with such a mess. hauling the life of donna, victor, shelby and his girls trying to dispose of the mold and cat hair. my moms things were so clean. I found a cancer patient to give all of her beads and jewelry making supplies to. with 4 children under 5, doing all of it alone across different cities hours apart. not one person asked me if i am okay. i wouldn’t have asked them for help. i just don’t see how that wouldn’t make any person become gray and broken. my kids have no aunties or uncles they are confused as to why we are picking up so many messes that aren’t ours. I can’t and won’t do it anymore. I made this garden space for myself. I deserve closure. I’m adding Ming’s ashes soon. I’m putting my dad in the river. He took my mom here on their honeymoon long before this house was bought. he’s not welcome on the soil here, tho.