I reminisce of you, though you think you’re forgettable,
But I’m in love with the details, the patterns, each repeating decimal.

Just two drunks in a McDonald’s drive-thru line,
Arguing, I swear, this bitch lost her damn mind.
Shoving, I swear, I don’t have the damn time,
Fine, I’ll oblige—fine, I’ll make the time.
You scream at me, and I’ll scream right back,
You swing at me, and I’ll swing right back.
Just two drunk girls in a McDonald’s drive-thru line.

As a mother, I had to learn to love someone I had never known before. Typically, you get to know someone before deciding if you can love them, but when you choose to be a mother, you choose to love before you know them. I think that’s why parent-child relationships are so complex. One is assumed to know everything, and the other nothing. When in reality, we were put here to learn from each other, love each other, and try to guide each other into the light.

When I first became a mom, I thought I was broken. I expected to feel a rush of love when I saw my daughter, but I felt nothing. I had a really complicated pregnancy during COVID, which in itself was an experience. I thought I was a horrible person, and postpartum depression didn’t help either.

With time, I got to know her, and she got to know me. We learned to love each other unconditionally. With the people you love, you don’t always like them all the time, but you would do anything for them. I think people sometimes twist the two. Liking is based on opinions; love simply is.

She lay in bed, staring at the same white ceiling she had gazed at in simpler times. The walls of her childhood room closed in around her; it had always been a cocoon of both comfort and confinement. A familiar wave of nausea surged. She turned her head over the edge of the bed, retching into the garbage can. Nothing came up but air, dry heaves shaking her fragile frame.

She had lost track of the last full meal she had. All she could taste now was the rare sip of water, a bite of an apple, or the worst—bile.

With trembling hands, she propped herself back on the bed, savoring the brief reprieve from the relentless nausea. Minutes passed, and the dizziness crept back in, her stomach churning. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, she shifted restlessly, seeking any position that might bring a moment’s relief.

“What did I do to deserve this?” she wondered, the thought creeping through the fog of her mind. Memories and regrets swirled together, and a shadow of Catholic guilt hovered over her like a storm cloud. “What are you trying to teach me?” she silently pleaded, seeking answers in the stillness of her room.

“You don’t love me how I love you,” he said, tears filling his eyes. She sat silent, her mind agreeing, but no words would come out of her mouth. One too many wine coolers had her stumbled out of his dad’s pickup truck.

Have you ever felt like you needed to wait until you knew more before you could start something new?

I’ve always felt like I had to wait to learn more, know more, and grow more before I could do anything. Like I had to be credited before I could create, but how can I be experienced before I’ve tried? A lot of us might feel stuck, paralyzed with fear—fear of failing, fear of the unknown, fear of judgment. I know I have, and do. I’m human.

However, it’s taken me a lot to come to terms with the fact that I will never truly know, but that’s okay. I’ve learned that part of life isn’t about knowing but about learning, so I’ve been trying to push myself out of my usual habits in pursuit of creating.

Creating what exactly, I don’t know, but I wanted to start here. I’ve thought of deleting this, but instead, I just rebranded and kept the old posts. It’s an interesting opportunity for me to reflect on where I’ve been and for people to be nosy. Part of creating is also being vulnerable and being your authentic self.

There have been so many versions of myself through the years. I’m not necessarily proud of all of them, but they were all necessary for me to get where I needed to be.

I remember when I first considered starting this blog. I felt overwhelmed by the thought of putting my thoughts out there, afraid of what people might think. But now, I see it as a chance to learn and grow. If you’ve ever felt the same way, know that you’re not alone. Take the leap, and start creating, even if you don’t have everything figured out yet.

In the end, it’s not about knowing everything before you start. It’s about learning along the way and being true to yourself.

You took the best of me

Turned away and left me

Now you expect me

To be where you left me

Well now that’s fucking absurd

Fuck what you heard

After all that’s occurred

Don’t mutter another fucking word

How did you just get up and leave?

You left me fucked up like packs of triple c’s

How could I believe that we were a ‘we’?

And that you were any different

But you where just indifferent

Questioning allegations

Justifying fucked up explanations

Trashed the all expectations

Love imitation, pain recreation

Till it hit me, you were just an infatuation

I gave you the first word,

Now Ima leave you with this last verse

Let’s hit it in reverse

When you told me I was perfect

And I was simply worth it

So I gave you my all

And you gave me your worst

You called me your doll

I was already cursed

I loved you the most

But now I’m gone like ghost

Fine stoner chick about five foot seven

High as fuck, she fell straight from heaven

She said “call me Mary, that’s my name”

She said “I come in peace, and I’m here to bring you ease”

I want to be able to enjoy the little things without worrying about the bigger things. Be carefree without a place to be. Rise when I like and die when I please. I want the the music, the art, the street poetry. I want the sunshine, the thunderstorms, and the breeze. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I want them all, give them all to me.

I want to conquer my fear, my anger, my ugly. Destroy the voice inside that destroys me. It’s easy to fight a demon externally but how do you fight the demon internally?

Constantly clawing the back of my skull never letting me forget you’re there at all. Goodnight my love, I know you’re there. I know you’ll greet me with despair and a bad attitude. So in the morning I start acting rude and cursing to the Sun for my bad mood. Blame it on my aptitude or the fact that I’m becoming immune to this disease that has taken over me.