KODAK figured it out.
I am a puzzle person.
I believe jigsaw puzzles are
the most relaxing way to pass time.
I love the concept that
small, almost meaningless pieces
can fit together
to make a picture
and
create meaning.
My son also loves jigsaw puzzles.
we have three rules
for when you get stuck:
1) New side
2) New spot
3) New piece
I am a puzzling person.
(as the cliché goes)
My therapists have told me
they don’t know how I’m so
”balanced”
”put together”
”sane”
You see, I grew up surrounded by
chaos
imbalance
and
neglect
They told me people who grow up
in environments like mine
typically continue patterns of behavior
rather than actively disrupt them.
I am a puzzle of a person.
I believe our lives
are made of small pieces
put together
to create meaning.
However
my puzzle has massive gaps
and appears to be missing pieces.
I have searched for them
and followed our three rules
for the pieces I do have,
but parts remain empty
and the puzzle stays meaningless.
The world’s largest jigsaw puzzle
is made by KODAK
and contains 51,300 pieces.
But everyone knows:
all those pieces have a place
and contribute to the meaning.
As long as it’s done correctly,
there are no gaps.
If a puzzle cannot be completed,
despite a person’s best efforts:
Does the puzzle still have meaning?
Is the puzzle considered broken?
Should I keep trying?
secrets I wish to tell you
I don't know
if you're ready
to hear this:
Your children need you.
Your grandson needs you.
You need you.
I don't know
if you're ready
to realize this:
I hear the bottles
I see the brown bags in your purse
I watch your eyes change
dilated tears are difficult to hide
No one needs to go to their closet that many times a day
I don't know
if you're ready
to know this:
The bottles tell me how much you're hurting that day
The severity of our slurring tells me how poorly you're coping
The tremors tell me you're more than "not okay"
I don't know
if you're ready
to stop:
You've stopped seeing your counselor
you blame lack of insurance
You've stopped being postive
you blame everything going wrong
You've stopped being happy
you blame everything
I don't know
if you're ready
to hear this:
I don't know how to help
I don't ask anymore
I already know
I don't want to talk to you about it
you'll tell me I'm the reason you have to
There are many things I don't know and even more that I don't understand. But I am certain of this: I am losing you right before my eyes. Your end is coming and I. am. terrified.
i believe in God and i have compiled a list of questions for whenever i meet Him.
1) how are You?
2) do You really love me as much as You say You do?
3) do You know how much i love You?
4) why did You make my life so difficult?
5) why didn't You make me stronger?
6) why did You make my brain broken?
7) are there really pets in heaven?
8) have You counted the amount of times i have said "i'm sorry" like i have?
9) are You sick of hearing me apologize?
10) will i ever get to be happy?
Why yes, I do consider myself a Disney expert. Thank you for noticing.
People always ask me:
"You are an adult. Why do you still like Disney?
It's in a bunch of your poems, but Disney is for
little kids..."
To be honest,
I still don't have an answer
to that question.
Maybe,
in some aspects
I still am a little kid
Everyone knows I'm not actually
an adult
because I fake it
and lie to cover my mistakes
or blame my illnesses
and use them as a crutch
Perhaps it is because
I never got to experience
the quintessential childhood
or adolescence
and I cling to examples
of what my life could have been like
Could be the fact that
I constantly question
whether or not someone could
actually love me
because maybe my fears are true
and I have way too many issues
and a majority of Disney movies
focus on the female
finding her true love
Hopefully
it's just a weird something I like
Everything I write
ends up being depressing
so maybe my creative self-conscious
finds a way to incorporate
something stereotypically happy
into poems about
how messed up my mind is
I could continue over-analyzing myself
and my love of Disney
and making this poem longer than it should be
but maybe instead
I will end early
and leave the question unresolved
A poem for my future children: Shit. I might be a princess...
I realized the other day that I only know two Disney couples that reproduced: Ariel/Eric, Simba/Nala, and Pongo/Perdita. A mermaid, a lion, and a dog were the only three Disney females to have children. Apparently, Disney princesses aren't allowed to have sex...
Due to this realization, I am officially convinced that I am, in fact, a Disney princess.
Please know: it's not that I don't want to experience that with my could-be-husband, it's more that I am scared of having children. I tell people this secret and they laugh and shrug it off because we both know I'd be a damn good mother.
Understandably, being both a Disney princess and a mother is a scary combination because:
1) statistically, mothers don't fare
too well in Disney movies
and
2) I am terrified that I will pass a
horrible genetic gift to my child.
I fear my child will be born with cravings for solutions found at the bottom of a bottle. I fear my child will wake up with empty tear ducts because the body cannot stop crying when the mind is asleep. I fear my child will need even more medication than I do. I fear my child will lose emotional control faster and more severely than I did.
I fear my child will be like me.
Did Ariel know that, at the end of the day, she would be a good mother, despite of how different she was? I bet she never assumed her child would need emotional therapy by the time the child was seven-years-old. I already look at mental health costs for two.
Dear future child, if you actually exist and have gotten through this very long poem, please know two things:
1) I have loved you since before
you before you were an inkling
and
2) I pray my failings as a sane
human being have not affected
my ability to be a good mother.
If I have failed you in any way, please know it was my illnesses, not my lack of love. If you did not inherit my demons, go hug your father because his DNA has saved you and he is a true prince for that.
Breakfast v. Nightmares
I can't remember shit.
I am the person who jokes:
You think I
remember that?
I can't even remember
what I ate for breakfast.
Typically,
that statement is true.
However,
there are things that my memory
refuses to forget.
My memory knows
that memories can be
the worst form of torture.
I have woken up
praying for amnesia
because my memory
likes to cause pain
when I cannot fight.
My nightmares
could put Stephan King
to shame
because my memory knows exactly
what will deepen my self-dug pit
what will heighten my self-doubt
what will strengthen my fear
of being a disappointment
what will make me crack
I wish I knew
what the hell I ate
for breakfast
and could forget
how broken
life has made me feel.
Tomorrow,
I am having
cereal for breakfast.
I am praying I remember.
reasons why i watch neurosurgery videos on YouTube
I
i watch videos of neurosurgery because
it is much easier to say
"this is so amazing"
than
"i'm in love with a neurosurgeon
who doesn't love me back"
much easier.
II
i watch these videos
because i feel like
i need a reason to remember you.
III
neurosurgery comes up as
"recently viewed"
because i remind myself
why i feel like i don't deserve love
to try to make sense
of my brain's logically painful decision
IV
i am trying
to fill the void you left
when i pushed you out.
most neurosurgery videos
focus on removing something
dangerous or damaging
from the brain
V
it is easier
to hide the sounds of sobbing
when you are watching
something miraculous
VI
you are a neurosurgeon
i am what should be removed
though i made that decision freely
i now know
that i would give up
every heartbeat
past and future
to know that
my tears were not pointless
my heartbreak was not selfish
abandoning hope was the
second worst decision i ever made.