AFRAID OF THE DARK

After you're gone...
after The Intruder
cleans its plate
puts its utensils down
sighs with satisfaction
and takes you from me...
what will I do
in this house
alone
once all the people
who have come to
help me
cry with me
cradle me in their arms
tell me I'm gonna be fine
tell me they're here for me
tell me they understand
encourage me to eat
urge me to get some sleep
push me to take care of myself
advise me about
how to go on without you...

have left?

cuz they have lives
families
jobs
other important things
they have to do
that they've put off
long enough
to be here
"emo-sitting" me

what then?

there will come a time
when I'll have to face
the silence
the empty
the fact that when I
"darken up" the house at night
it'll just be
me
and your vacant room
your purse
shoes
clothes
toiletries
computer
bills
all your things
but no you

what will I do
how will I comfort myself
that first night
after they've all gone
and you're gone too
and I'm here
by myself
wind whistling outside
neighbors next door
across the street
raccoons and coyotes
running amok
in the roads
like it's a regular night
like I'm not over here
WTFing
staring at walls
peering around in confusion
screeching at the moon
trying to convince myself
I'm gonna sleep soundly
or at all...

I said
what will I do?

why aren't you answering me, Mommy?

I need answers
I need the cheat sheet
for this fucked-up test
I'm gonna hafta take
at some point
when you leave me
here
in a house only you
have called home
and I am tasked
with residing here
till I'm done
closing you out
with piecing together
this terrifying lesson
that Life has handed me
for which I have
absolutely
no
plan

MORE BLACK LIFE LOSS

TYPECAST

Won't let "I can't breathe"
be the one-liner you keep
forcing us to moan
#GeorgeFloyd #EricGarner #BreatheForThem

STAND-IN

Took a breath tonight
deep, long, for George Floyd, like the
one he struggled for
#GeorgeFloyd #BreatheForHim

MIRROR IMAGE

They're the main looters:
stealing black lives from the arms
and hearts of loved ones
#GeorgeFloyd

NOTE TO SELF

Harness vibe of "I
can do this" days; IV-drip
into days I can't

BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD

There are times
when I'm really "good at"
talking about
planning for
your death
with myself
with others
with you
cuz at this point
these convos are
essential
plus
I been wrapping my brain
and my spirit
around this maddening reality
for almost six months

so

there are times when
I'm not in jeopardy
of bursting into tears
I can hang tough
talk about your impending
"goneness"
with relative ease
feeling like
I really got this
like I'm pretty much ready
for the moment this ride
halts
and I gotta
make the calls
break the news
handle all your biz
empty your house
and go start my life
from ground zero
without you
figure out
who the fuck I am
without a mama
to call
send cards to
text eyeballs
email all my writing projects
fresh off the keyboard
to sleep eight stairs away from
in the guest room
when I come home to visit
to harass about
the junk food
with all the chemicals
preservatives
and redblueyellow dyes
you got invading your fridge
to say good night to

yeah

I be feelin' real ready

until morning comes
and The Intruder
causes a commotion
one I've never seen
one I gotta move you through
alone
cuz when my help was here
his punk ass was asleep
or on lunch
or doin' some other bullshit
that had me thinkin'
things might be mellow
for a minute

but nah cuz
here we are
me, you, and "it,"
and just when I think
I got shit under control
I can move us through
the storm
without incident...
you plead in agony
in fear
in tears
for me to help you—
you whisper my name
ask me to help you—
like I'm not right there
already helping you
cuz The Intruder
has you by the wits
feeling helpless
even though I gotchoo 

YOU WHISPER MY NAME
ASK ME TO HELP YOU

and when I get you to the bed
you collapse
in exhaustion
I tuck you in
wipe the panic
off my face
so you don't see me
about to crack
and then I realize

I am nowhere near
ready

IT'S FOR YOUR OWN GOOD

I remember when I was a kid
how hard I wished
I could tell you
NO
as many times as you
said it to me
and smooth
get away with it

I mean...really
what kid celebrates that word
anyway?

(I tried it
you know I tried it
we ALL tried it
as kids...
and I don't know
about y'all
but ummmm...
all of my
NO's
ended with me
gettin' jammed up
and with my mama
there were levels
to the jam-up—
all depending
on what kinda
NO
I was bold enough
to throw in her face 

I started working at 14
cuz of that word
cuz it seemed like
there was some kinda
NO
trailing behind
so many of my requests
so many "unreasonable" excuses
for them
so many "Cuz I said so's"
after my pissy whys)

Man...
I could not WAIT
till the day
I could tell you
NO
and not get jammed up

I didn't know
how long it would take
how old I'd hafta be
or what situation
we'd hafta be in
for my
NO's
(cuz you know I wasn't gon' stop at just one)
to go over
without a jam-up
but lemme tell you
I was watchin' the proverbial clock

These days
this month
this year
I have told you
NO
it seems like
789 times
and I have not
enjoyed any of them

There are so many things
you wanna do
that you can't
things you don't wanna do
that you need to
things you want me to do
that I'm not allowed
things you wanna eat
that will make you sick(er)
things you never wanna do again
that the doctors say
you gotta do
for the duration
and here I am
NO-ing you
till you evil-eye me
till your feelings are hurt
till your defiance rises
till you're frustrated to tears
till you're mad as hell
till you're reminded of
how many limitations you have
cuz of how ill
you really are

I wanna be able to say
YES
to all your requests and demands
but I can't

 
I gotta do
what's best for you
even though I know
you wanna jam me up

MY BAD

My favorite emoji
is the eyeballs 👀👀
they crack me the hell up
I use them for mostly funny
and light moments
in social media posts
or to taunt friends and fam
when I'm waiting for a response
to a question I've asked
a task I've doled out
information I'm looking for
or when I'm just checking on them

Mom gets the biggest kick out of 'em
always says she laughs
when I text her
a string of eyeballs
and nothing else

But now that
I'm in her house
with her
and The Intruder
I no longer text eyeballs...
I have my real eyes on her
all day long

Sometimes
there are these moments
when she's so "up"
talkative
sharp-witted
and moderately energetic
that it looks like
feels like
she just might be improving
like The Intruder could possibly
be having a change of heart
packing its shit—
not things
items
or stuff
it's definitely shit—
and making its way
outta her body
so much so
that I start to get
sorta-kinda hyped
and I find myself
eyeballing her
in emoji fashion
real hard
and long
like the string I send her
via text
👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀
cuz I believe in miracles
I've seen too many
had too many of my own
to NOT believe
so hey
who am I to doubt
that Mom could have one? 

But then
before my hype
can set up shop
in my bones
The Intruder
flings its shit
in my face
spits in
my real-life eyeballs
letting me know
this shit ain't no joke
it ain't packed
a damn thang
but a one-two punch
to my sinking-feeling gut
as I watch it
snatch her from miracle
to misery
in the blink
of my teary 👀
then I feel betrayed
foolish
miracle?

pshhh—
never mind

ROLES

I took you on a wheelchair stroll
you hadn't left the house
in almost two weeks
not your first time
in a wheelchair
cuz
the pile of hospital visits
took care of that
but this one
was special

Getting you down the stairs
to the chair
me
supporting you
lifting you
doing everything I could
to make sure you didn't fall...
the irony was crazy

You've spent five decades
supporting me

We teamworked you down
into the chair
you were so winded
visibly frustrated
but so damn determined
I smiled and thought,
"I am my mother's child." 

When I got you in
and secured
you looked so precious
and tired
and sad
a bit resigned

and tiny
heartbreakingly tiny

I wheeled you out the door
into the warm breeze
that dose of Vitamin D
you so desperately needed
and as I slowly walked you
down the sidewalk
you quietly looked around
like a baby
taking in new scenery
and I
looked down at the top of your head
wondering what my first stroller ride
as a baby
was like
you pushing me
me
unable to walk
needing you
to make sure that first ride
was as safe as possible

What day was that?
What was the weather like?
What did I have on?
Where did we go?
Were you scared?
Do you remember?

I would have asked you
these things
but I was trying to stay
in the moment
trying not to get distracted
I had one job:
to make sure that ride
was safe

You had a whole little person
that you were responsible for
that you would do anything for
that you would endure for
that you would have to figure out
how to care for
minute by minute

And now
so do I

VOLUME

As your voice begins
to fade, I strengthen mine to
speak for you in clone

JUST ONE QUESTION

I can hear you
snoring lightly
on the baby monitor
my eyes squinted
ear two inches from the speaker
making sure it's really you
and not the boisterous wind
from the open windows

no
it's you

but

though I sigh in relief
I know that when the snoring
and breathing
stop
and the grizzly bear
living in your body
has ended its feast
finished
gnawing you
right in front of my eyes
and your spirit floats
through every air vent
this house
your house
will become a ghost town
whose walls will surely crumble
at your absence

you've held them up
for nearly 25 years
like you've held me up
for 50
and they
like me
will wail
and tantrum
and probably maim themselves
while choking violently
on terror
then drowning
in the deep end
of their ocean of tears
behind the reality of
life without your face
your hands
your laugh
your smile
your humor
your body
among them
your loving touch
your quirky ways
your protective arms

who

who in the hell
will love these walls
and me
and me
and me
AND ME

WHO IN THE HELL
WILL LOVE ME
like you have?

WHAT TIME IS IT?

Tell me about the time
you watched your extended flesh
a candy-chocolate
headstrong
feisty beauty
diminishing
being eaten
from the inside out
yet still fighting
as the tips of your fingers
glided thru her curly white hair
you held her hand with your other
and she opened her eyes
from her weakened slumber
and you said, "I love you, Mommy.
Thank you for staying for 50 years,"
and she said, just above a whisper,
but with the clarity and sweetness
of a morning birdsong,
"Thank YOU for staying for 50 years.
I love you too. You my baby."

Tell me about that time.

You can't.
But I can.
And I'm eternally grateful.

DREAD: THE COUNTDOWN

How many more times
will I call your name: "Mommy,"
and get an answer?