Papa

poems about my dead father

O, where is home?

Where will I lay my weary head at night?

Home is something I’ve never known

Home is something I thought I did not deserve

Home is something I thought I’d never find

O, I’ve been running and searching all my life

Only to realize after all this time

Home is a state of mind

The Pieces I Cannot See

There are pieces of me

I can no longer see

my stuffed animals have been given away

my heart has no place to stay

in this debilitation the world cracks.

grief crawls and my heart is entrapped.

And so, I sleep amongst boxes

halfway between and amidst the madness

I search and I search for answers

Digging

But, there are pieces of me

I can no longer see

THE LIMINAL SPACE

i am in the liminal space

the halfway state

it was stronger today

with my foot in the gas pedal

breaching 90

the faster you go the faster my soul

the more closer i am to her sweet embrace

it is a chilling kind of freedom

i am in the liminal space

the halfway state

headed home

four walls i call mine

the place where i feel it all

maybe i will drown tonight

and i will finally be free

from the belief that i could bear it at all

i am in the liminal space

the halfway state

you can reach it by train too

or by car

but you can never arrive, no

in transition your position is lifted

if you arrive you learn nothing

so i stay

tugging at this ball of yarn

knowing it may never come loose

i am in the liminal space

the halfway state

i can see no light at the end of the tunnel

only darkness

this is what awaits me

this is what my mind sees

i do not believe in a future

there is nothing in the now to hold onto

only the past to sink within

to drown myself in

to bury myself on

PLEASE REACH OUT

There are nights

When I wish to pick up the phone

And call you

And hear your voice

And ask you

Do you miss him?

And hope you do not hear

The heartbreak in my voice

The reach for you

And the fear that you will not reach back

----------------------o-------------------o------------------o------------------

When I lost my father, it changed the course of fate for my mother and I. I believe there is still a part of me that is still angry at my father for never being there, even before he passed. I believe there are still parts of me that are angry at him for dying in the first place. Those parts have nowhere to go, and no one to blame, so the fire is lit beneath my mother. At last, I have someone to blame. My mother is not without her faults, but I wonder how to reconcile this anger I feel so I may accept her as she is. So I may not punish her for a crime she had no control over. I wonder and I wonder.

----------------------o-------------------o------------------o------------------

WHEN EVERYTHING IS ALIVE

how do you know you are never alone?

well, my child, what does it mean to be alone?

that you are without company, yes?

or does it mean you have been abandoned?

forgotten?

did you lock yourself up

and throw away the key?

is that being alone?

kneel. listen.

the rustling of the trees?

the beating of your own heart?

feel.

the sun on your skin?

can you taste it?

it’s okay to laugh, it’s funny. tasting the sun.

everything is alive,

so how could you be alone?

THE THOUSAND TON HEART

did you know

of the heart that weighs

a thousand tons?

though only 22 years

it had bore the brunt of many battles

and so the heart grew heavy

and a purging became necessary

for a heart should not weigh

a thousand tons!

a pound maybe

but not that much!

you begin to think

something is wrong

something is very wrong

why does it feel so heavy

and getting up feels so heavy

and eating feels so heavy

and breathing feels so heavy

and crying feels—

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