The drummer

To my dear friend who misses her father deeply. Listen to your heart, he lives inside of you. (F.M.) 

If I close my eyes and stay very still, I can hear a drummer pounding a steady beat.

But once I get distracted it’s like I can’t hear it anymore.

I want to see the drummer it is so frustrating that I cannot, but I know it’s there. This is all too much. I can’t. I am leaving. I am going for a walk before I lose my mind.

I just need to think; I need to ponder clearly in solitude.

Counting my steps with one foot in front of the other; The drummer begins. The faster I go, the louder it gets. I just know I am getting closer. I must keep going.

I keep tripping over things that do not exist and stopping for things that should not have been in my way; and it is such a whirlwind of emotions because I can’t cry because I am angry; and I am angry because I am looking for the drummer; and I cannot find it.

Not once did it miss a beat. This is the creator of the rhythm that developed inside me and now I am lost. How can that be?

Anyway, I am out of breath. Let me sit down.

The drummer is tirelessly playing the beautiful melody but I am too tired and out of breath to realize what is happening.

At times I think I am crazy because my desire is to use openness as bait to gain love; and that if I exert positive energy, nothing bad will ever come. And so I believe that if I move faster towards the sound of the drum I will find it and that would be enough for me to not think of this bullshit we call life.

But it is not enough.

I have wasted so much time trying to find something that was inside of me the whole entire time.

The drummer is my father and he plays the beautiful sound that radiates from my chest. He gave me life and continues to give me purpose.

I need to stop being so selfish and appreciate that the music he created will forever be heard inside of me and anything I create from this point forward.

All I have to do is listen.

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From your everything, to my nothing

Thirty three years have passed. One thing I have learned over time is that an individual does not have the ability to change another human being. That is all due to the fact that what the heart wants is always in a battle with what the mind wants. So incidentally, the weak-minded fall victim to thinking they are mindful yet they are heartless. Given a choice, I would rather simplify the confusion by considering the morality of the dilemma. If you had to commit a sin to temporarily soothe your soul, then be prepared to accept that the benefit will never outweigh the consequences. From this point forward, regrets will control your whole being; because once you lose the one thing that was meant to be your everything, you will be nothing.

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Cold side of the bed

Nightfall has arrived, eyes carried heavy.

Long hours rolled by today.

Thinking of this lonely moment all day and how one would have to cope with the feeling of emptiness that would overcome them by not having that special someone by their bedside.

 Fairness seems far out of reach.

Bad decisions are what caused this painful distance.

At the end of the day, who was always there for you when you needed someone?

To inquire and listen to how your day went?

To heal your physical and emotional wounds?

To be present during the most crucial moments?

To love and truly care for you?

I stopped asking myself all those questions because sadly it was evident that all you were concerned about was who would fill the cold side of your bed.

Today I wish to die, just to feel what you feel

The weirdest thing happened today.

I thought of you and missed you so much that it physically hurt.

How could so much time goes by, yet it feels like yesterday when you were here with me?

Does the act of dying hurt?

Do you grieve as much knowing that we will not see each other in this lifetime?

I thank God that your pain is done, even though mine has just begun.

I just want you to know that I noticed your sign.

As the moment arrived, you shed a single tear.

I stole it from you and absorbed it into my soul.

That way, I still feel you.

Just remember, that one day I will see you again.

And when I do, I promise to give it back.

 

That unforgettable sound in your chest

You watched me take my first breath, and I watched you take your last. I will forever be grateful for the priceless exchange.” – Jessica Roman”

Steady at a pace in which your life exists at full force, I admire you there fighting to keep that sound in your chest long enough for me to have felt at ease with the thought of never having heard it again.

Long and strong you hung in me by your side as promised your job here on earth was not done.

I vowed to take on your unfinished duties.

At first, I thought I could never go on in life to try to be normal.

Although my insecurities were many, I showed you a face that was strong and a soul that was unbreakable.

My solemnity calmed your worries and settled your body to a point where mentally and physically you parted away from me yet, emotionally you were present.

I may not have the privilege to have that sound in your chest beat to the drum in my ear but I feel you and you are still here.

From the mud, grows this flower

(For all those who envied my mother, and contributed to her demise)

It has rained on me for quite some time.

Clear days have passed me by.

I have been forgotten by those who once honored me.

I have deceived everyone who once trusted me.

The expectations are low for me to be loved.

The chances of me prospering are slim.

I have been thrown to the ground.

No one ever thought of me as a success so on the ground they felt is where I belonged

The forceful nature of hatred keeps me down.

I have become part of the scum which makes the earth an unpleasant place in which I came from but do not belong anymore.

Tragedy in my eyes has stricken and my life has come to an end.

I am now buried into the ground.

The earth from which I came from became the ground in which I rest.

Rainfall has subsided and mud has taken its place.

For so long everyone wished to see me in this way.

Their wishes have been granted.

Yet unknowingly to them, I am not gone because from the mud grows this flower and my life took its course in another form.

I am beautiful now as I was before.

You see me standing tall with natural beauty and pride.

Unbeknownst to them, overall I have managed to remain the same.

Anonymous soul pulled from existence

(In memory of  Talia Alston-Roman 12-6-00)

Never is there a day that I do not recall when you introduced yourself to me.

I recollect that time so well.

I asked “HIM” to show me love in a special way and so it was granted.

He gave me you.

I perceive that this was much for me to ask.

I say this because I asked for something that I did not know how to preserve and nurture.

That was my substantial need.

The risk of loss is what I took.

I needed you to save me from myself.

You needed me to see you through your life.

Crying never helped me.

Courage never existed.

Faith was absent.

For all being said, now that you are gone, seeing you in imagination is not enough.

Pictures fade away.

I crave the need to feel your presence.

I go to where I know you are but I can not see you.

Not only am I worn with torture at the thought of you not forgiving me but, I still suffer at the thought of knowing that when I visit, you are not there.