Mom to Two

Echo the walls of a house I once lived.

Pizza in the oven,

Silverware laid out,

Mama singing out of tune.

Memories used to be comforting

it is imperative to

I’m having another baby

and my mom must’ve come

to send me a sign that she’s here

because my due date,

all of high school i submersed myself

with band

and it was quite competitive, really.

so much self hate,

surrounded by both the kindest people and

the most self-absorbed losers.

i really beat myself up trying to climb the hierarchy.

i even tried to quit when it became

too much to handle.

gaslit into staying, i still felt unwelcome.

i wasn’t necessarily on the bottom, i was

a section leader and was loved by my

section.

i still craved a sense of belonging.

marching didn’t come easily to me,

not like it did for most everyone else.

i couldn’t physically do it and i just figured

maybe i’m not pushing myself like everybody

else?

maybe i’m just lazy and don’t want to put the work in?

but that’s not how i truly felt.

i was going to physical therapy but nothing

was improving.

maybe everybody else is in pain too,

and i’m the only one not pushing through it.

constantly beating myself over the head

and then sitting out for reps.

i really did feel terribly embarrassed.

turns out all along i’ve had a rare genetic

connective tissue disorder.

And what the hell is Ehler’s Danlos Syndrome anyways?

I often wonder what I could’ve done differently

for my friends to have liked me.

I understand why many peeled off when

i had a kid,

but i felt the falling out way before that.

perhaps i get too excited that i drive people away.

it just feels terrible that i don’t have friends

that i can look back on the memories and laugh.

all i feel is hurt.

i’m getting married next year.

i won’t have any bridesmaids

or a maid of honor.

just the strange faces of my siblings

that have also outgrown me,

and the parents i worked so hard to leave.

travis’s family beside mine,

in a broken room

listening to broken music

with our broken families.

i almost would rather not have a wedding.

i have close to nobody

still sees the world in color,

how can I teach her to handle the world?

My small, sweet girl,

how come she has to grow up too?

I hold her close to me every moment I can,

but she’s now big enough to play on her own,

little independent.

Sometimes I miss the smaller baby she once was,

still cherishing the baby she is today.

Raising a daughter is scary,

I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing.

from people I called my best friends.

I reach out my arms

but they don’t see me.

My ship is sinking

and they float on

the way they always did,

Someone who once was my person of comfort— memories lost and disconnected in the back of my mind.

If she stood here before me I don’t know if tears would flood my eyes, if I would run for a hug, or if I would feel anything at all.

I don’t remember much about her character— I don’t remember her mannerisms, her fears, or really anything personal about her. All that I have left of her is her favorite flower and her favorite songs.

And I’m sure we would’ve been best friends, but I lost her too soon.

I miss my mom.

What is missed is the lifetime of growing old with her that was taken from me. And I will never have that back.

with no little toes

and no little eyes, and no little nose

a small long body

a body that’s round

that rises occasionally

with the lights off

holding my hands to my ears

the sound of water becomes muffled

a feeling of happiness and satisfaction

has left me with ugly horizontal scars,

many that are still healing.

what once was beautiful red blood

has become pink and white scars,

they now fill my body...

sifted by undulations,

where the ocean can reach—

searching for life,

on land that is loamless

and cuts like a knife.

a boy with no friends

living skin and bone

has to make amends;

And slither down my neck,

Pooling in the crevice of my collarbone

Until they begin the overflow.