So I’m a veteran now..
Help me open this
C & P exam notification.
Look at that,
a winner has been selected
for my mental health’s raffle.
Combat activity report card reads as follows:
2 deployments for me
&
93% on the subject of
American history.

I felt the ghosts
of our heroes
let their tears fall
over my shoulder,
because the heaviest pen in
the planet struggled to check the box that was applicable to me.

I’ve been feeling decently
until recently,
when I was notified,
that everything
that I try to hide
in the tombs of my psyche,
will be –
resurrected,
dissected,
&
placed under
a microscope.
Picture my ptsd..
As a protozoa in a petri dish,
just small enough that I will never
feel whole (fill hole)
unless I open up,
I will never heal my soul…

Or maybe a telescope,

for everytime I’ve
spaced
out.

There’s a dissonance
in the distance that
slightly resembles the terror that
holds my happiness hostage.
“Incoming,”
Incoming,
Incoming!

any alarm
& this action movie
shapeshifts
into the horror genre,

Michael Bay
transforms into
Stephen King.

“It” is
“The Pet Semetery”
Where
“Cujo”
Is buried,
alarms also make me feel like
Jon Coffee walking
“The Green Mile.”

The Doha Accord was signed on
29 Feb, 2020.

Despite this alleged “armistice,”
the mirage in the dark was the target of many armaments..

12 bombs…I think?

like scalping your enemy,
i’ve tried to sever
that memory from my head,
but try as I might,
it hangs on by a thread,
how could I ever forget
the bomb that knocked me out of my bed?

& the subsequent phone call
to my parents..
telling them how
f*cking scared I was.

Oh, the heartbreak harbored in their eyes,
for only a handful of times,
have they seen their son cry,
but anytime I heard
Incoming, incoming, incoming..
It was at least possible
I might die.

I genuflect to inspect
These 17 coins I have earned,
Jaded-
I helped pack the grave dirt of far to many urns.
The petri begins denting from the inside.

Still Sealed by the gravity
That re-wrote history:
the fat man who crashed
bockscar in
Nagasaki.

Or
the little boy birthed
from enola gay
in Hiroshima.

“Do alarms really bother you?”
“Yes, it’s my heart beat playing hide and seek,”
“Is it getting any better?”
“Not really,
Every time I try & get some sleep
I hear the floorboards creak,”
“Isn’t it just another noise?”

“No.

It’s every thought I’ve ever had against my life,
The Grim Reaper’s sychte felt so cold upon my cheek…”

Im thankful for all of the help
that I have seeked,
for the last 4.5 years
I have my good days &
bad days,
& I’m hopeful that
one day,
it will be
Just Another Noise.
But until then,
I hope you see everyone is different after they’ve deployed.

Admiration within the smile
as you allow it to grow.
All the way from the mile
getting the light to show.
Bouncing around
due to past endeavors.
Finally finding you in the sound
now that I have passed each of the levers.
Chills head their way down
along with the fears.
Never a need to frown
only taking a few years.
You’re brighter than you would believe
just wait to see what you will achieve.

Pulling the soul back
to the day that seems forever ago.
Slowly here still wishing for the comeback
those chances set low.
Reminding who you once were
now that my name no longer exists.
For him it’s nothing but a blur
reading the remainder of life from lists.
Telling you all that has been achieved
despite knowing I’ll say it often.
Still pursuing the grieved
hoping maybe it’ll soften.
You still being here
the birds starting to explain the time is near.

Hey, you, I can see you pacing
Feeling your world is beginning to crumble
Pulse is racing
Worried about how to stop turning into a pile of rumble

Please now sit still
Unclog your ears
Anxieties are making you ill
I have a message to you that you need to hear

You have been spending much time spiraling
Dancing to the rhythm of teenage rues and blues
Obsessions over prospects of your future are only causing unnecessary fretting
Please listen to me, I’m you but a little older and wiser

Honey, you are standing in the mirror
And pinching at your skin
Wondering if one day you will stop wishing to be thinner
One day you wake up heavier and realize that’s when your life begins

The body you keep abusing
Will undergo more battles that are not your fault
Simmer down all the silent shaming
You’ll need the extra strength to fight the wounds yet to come that are sealed in the vault

Everyone thinks you have it all together
To the outsiders, you are smiley and happy
Only you know you are holding on by a tether
Accept that is ok to feel crappy

Yes, I know it is hard to find a way to see the meaning
On why that boy that promised you forever and more
Left you with your heart-shattering
In microscopic pieces all over the floor

Right now, it feels as if your world is ending
All you want is him back
And you will get what you have been yearning
Only realized the roses had turned black

There will be more boys
Who will eventually turn into men
Some may play with like toys
And others will make you feel born again

Right now, I seem like a delusion
Of an older adult giving you unsolicited advice
Part of some sort of collusion
To control the story of your life

I cannot answer all your questions
Of whom, when, what, and how?
All I can offer is a suggestion
You aren’t supposed to know all those answers yet

Experiences will come and they will go
Some will be remarkable
Many will come with a big blow
It is up to you to keep your sparkle

Put those worries aside
Every single mistake, regret, and stinge of pain
Will eventually just become wounds you’ve been able to bind
Sunshine always follows the rain

Today, start to practice self-love
In lieu of hate because you are wasting your time
You will become a woman with the peace of a dove
And trust me, trust me you are going to be just fine.

The coo of a dove,
gently wakes me from my slumber,
I dreamt of laying near a babbling brook,
accompanied by a good book,
hoping the right direction is hidden somewhere in these pages.
The morning light,
lightly lifted my eye lids
asking me:
“Hey, are u ready to start the day?”
A day where the only demands needing to be met,
are that of being a good father .
That sounds like so much fun!
We can build a fort,
we can go to the park and run.
Then I remember the problems
I tried to pin inbetween
prelude and the exodus,
they started to seep out of the page.
My son’s laughter met my anxiety outside and said
“not today!”
What it did allow-
was a welcoming thought,
for me to be a kid again.
Watching him live his life with so much joy,
Made me realize that
I needed to heal my inner boy.

The current cacophony
currently singing through water,
opened the valves of my heart so my younger self and my son can play together.

“A Dream by the River.”

The Sunlight was very jealous of our smiles,
The Breeze stopped for a second
to enjoy our laughter,
The Grass welcomed the
weight of our weightlesness,
It felt our heartbeat with every step,
then we layed down and became blades of grass ourselves.
My son safely nestled next to me and we dozed off…

Look at the obstacles you’ve surpassed
not once thinking this is where you’d be.
Despite all of the overcast
now kicking your feet with glee.
Getting past it all
anything tossed your way.
Funny that you were thinking you would fall
now the pressure is no longer a weigh.
I know that you see it
you opened that door.
Never giving in to quit
leaving your heart to wanting more.
We still have so much to learn
you can rest since it is no longer your turn.

The impact of my Romeo’s embrace
can send ease throughout the mind—
compiling a space of security.
Shockwaves sent within
outside leaves only a grin—
the impact of my Romeo’s embrace.
Allowing the spirit to roam free
across the buds that have been planted—
compiling a space of security.
Growing in the races
tangling up the two souls—
the impact of my Romeo’s embrace.
Following the direction the fingers intertwine
as we head towards the meadows—
compiling a space of security.
A path sent from the rain
only he knows the pain we with-stained:
the impact of my Romeo’s embrace—
compiling a space of security.

Dear Daisy,

I anticipate your stems sprouting from the ground every spring, and I can feel you again. When summer approaches, your petals will showcase their beauty in the sunlight. I will close my eyes and take a deep breath, and for a moment, you are here in my arms. I imagine your bright blue eyes mirroring mine. Your smile is the brightest star in the sky. Your laugh roars, filling the earth with glee as you play with the other neighbor kids in nature. It is easy to get lost in the daydream.

Before you, I was giving my body away to men who didn’t deserve it. Drowning underneath insecurities and self-loathing, allowing myself to be treated as a piece of property that could be used and abused by men. Convincing myself that I wasn’t worth love, I kept telling myself that this was how I wanted to feel: worthless and nothing.

My period did not come. I kept telling myself, no, it isn’t possible. I was in denial. Adults have a superpower of lying to themselves, so incredibly powerful that they believe it until they can no longer outrun it. The truth will always rear its head, and it’s heartbreaking.

That morning in June, I awoke with intense cramps. I convinced my twenty-six-year-old self that my period was coming… three months late. Treating it as a typical day, I went to work. As I was Chatting with my coworkers, one of them being your father, about planning a fun night out, I felt a cramp, and a gush of blood erupted flowing outside of me. I ran to the third stall in the bathroom, and I saw it. I could no longer deny what was happening. I was losing you, Daisy.

Turning back into a childhood state of mind, I called my mother, and she rushed me to the hospital. Blood was seeping me through like a waterfall. When they came to tell me I was losing you, my heart tore in such a way that I am still unable to put into direct words. I hadn’t even developed the courage to tell your father you were coming; now I would have to say to him you were gone just as quickly as I accepted you were alive.

He was kind enough, but wasn’t the emotional support I needed then. He didn’t understand why I changed and didn’t want to be a “coworker with benefits anymore.” He got upset with me when I wouldn’t fulfill his desires, even though the doctors told me it wasn’t safe for me to do until I stopped bleeding. I did not want to be an object of his desire anymore.

I bled from June to August. Part of me didn’t want to stop bleeding because that would mean you were truly gone. I wanted even those parts of you to stay. The day the blood stopped, I put my hand on my empty womb and wept. It was two days past my twenty-seventh birthday.

I had spent most of my life avoiding any feelings of vulnerability. Losing you was the first time I felt every emotion in my body: sadness, anger, regret, and eventually relief. The truth is, Daisy, I wasn’t ready for you, and I will never know if that could’ve changed in time for your arrival. Granting myself to succumb to my emotions took me from a shell, and I embraced the complete existence of myself as a person and a woman.

After hours of self-reflection, I realized I was not stuck with anyone. Cutting the ties, I focused on building myself as a strong and confident woman. I promised myself never to give my body away until I could say to myself, “I love you.” Somehow, I got there. I felt the wind hit my face, and you said, “You got this, Mommy.”

Experiencing a miscarriage has given me unwavering strength to tackle obstacles that dare come my way. I am intelligent, I am kind, I am important. I am grateful for every ounce of pain and emptiness I felt in my body. Never again will I throw my feelings into a drawer and pretend they aren’t there. I can articulate when I am hurting and ask for support from people around me. The experience made me a whole person, not the robot society deems the most acceptable. My strengths and weaknesses make me whole, just the way I am. And Daisy, that is the most freeing feeling anyone can be. Through you, I discovered how to love myself.

You are the world, Daisy. I never gave you a name. I planted the prettiest seed to remember you, and will continue to bloom for you and me.

I Love You Always,

Your Mom