The last time I wrote something....

Untitled…

As much as my heart wants to say different, I don’t know you. I never really did.
I knew this person that I met in a world of complete freedom
A world where I made my own plans, and all of the
Shit from that other life, that mainland life was
Swept away by the outgoing waves and taken, for a moment,
To the deep end, and kept there while we went exploring.
So there I was, making up my new world, painting the sky purple and the
Grass electric blue. I drew a new me, putting my face on someone else’s body
And vacuum sucking the old me into a ziploc baggy in the back of my brain just in case
This new fantasy world didn’t work out. Just in case.

And somehow, out of my tupperware cauldron, you appeared.
I must have dreamed you up one night while I slept, barefeet hanging
Off the end of the bed, drool on my pillow. I must have seen you then,
Wild hair and smiling that sweet crooked-tooth grin that betrayed the secret
Behind your eyes.
I must have mixed together your old soul from the books I’ve read and the movies
I’ve seen. I must have mixed you out of me, only better.
So of course, I couldn’t help but fall for you since you were
My perfect five course meal. I starved for you.I want to feel full, I want to stop eating every two hours only to
Feel that ache creeping up my legs and into the pit of my stomach where it
Settles, taking only brief bathroom breaks before reassuming its position at
My center.

I needed you there to wear the coat of loneliness I
Stitched for myself so I didn’t have to carry it any longer.
So I could look at it from a far, convince myself it was gone,
But not too gone, because it is home for me. And so you became my hearth,
My representation of all things right and all things that made me…me
My family of sorts, that (in my technicolor world) will always love me, no matter what I did, or said,
Or how far I ran from them, from you.
They had to love me.

But you didn’t. You’re not my blood
You’re not required by some cosmic contract to
Love and care for me without reservation,
You’re not even required to know me, speak to me,
To think about me in any way.
And you don’t, do you?
Now that you are away from me, and my
Fantasy is no longer -- do you even exist?
Do I exist for you?
Did I ever?


Donor

No man to call daddy
‘Ain’t no one’s little girl.
Never had that calloused hand
Tuck me in, or pick me up
And throw me to the ceiling
So high.

I used to think you were Billy Crystal
Away on business,
Busy being famous,
Too busy, but only because you had to be.
Busy ‘cuz you were mah-vulous!

Then you called.
I was so happy you called.
Remembered my birthday too.
But you called to say goodbye.
Goodbye to your old life…
Why?

Another woman, another ring,
Another baby – a girl, even.
So when you barely said two words
To us, your “former life” you somehow
Found it in yourself to say FOREVER
To something else.

And I heard. I had to.
Your life didn’t take you from us,
You went off running on your own.
Mom said you weren’t the “family type”
But our family wasn’t your “type” was it?

It’s been years since I cried for you, reached for you,
Dreamed of the day when you would suddenly realize
The mistakes you made and come running, tears in your own eyes
To reach for me, for her.

I have nothing left for you but a faint and nagging curiousity
To see what the miles have done to you,
To see my very own public service announcement in person
To see my coarse, curly hair and big brown eyes
…or what’s left of them
Behind your sunken face.

So now I thank you for those two happy
Accidents in your otherwise unlucky life
And pray for the family you have now
And the little girl who sits at home and waits for her
Daddy to call.