Messages from your Mom

Hey, your moms messaged me asking how everything’s going. Inquiring if I’m up for grabs or taken, if I got kids on the way or ones that are almost speaking. A lot can happen with time and distance once a relationship has been broken to pieces.

Talks with your moms brewed emotions, stronger than Cuban coffee with a dash of Columbian powdered lactose that’s cut with coke. Those three dots erupted a commotion of emotions within my flesh-n-muscle soul-powered locomotive and the gears of my heart grinded thinking of what message is attached to her keystroking. I choke on my own spit as I read what she says. “I miss you everyday and hope we can remain as close friends.” I begin typing away a brief, amicable n sincere rejoinder and before I could reply to her, my cellscreen switches to an incoming call from your mother. I hesitate but answer and quickly initiate to conversate. She did nothing wrong to me and to be honest I miss her loving sympathy. A genuine compassion, unconditional. But it’s making my heart feel trivial…

I hold back my tears and hear her every word, as she tangents off and began to spew of her life and yours. How she feels sorry for what occurred, she hoped my focal-point’s sores are recovered and have not given up on love anymore. I’m torn to bits and burst into an internal fit as I do not admit to her, that my heart is scorned from what her offspring did. I simply tell her, “Everything’s going. It is, what it is.” I keep my talk short and sweet. I’m cordial and respectful but a sensation of a vocal tension arose, after my closing statement “What can we do? You live and you learn.” Your mom said goodbye with tone of rejoice and said, “We’ve missed the sound of your voice…”

I replied in a likewise manner wishing her and what’s hers a bright future.

I now feel like I have closure. I still wish you all nothing but the best.

But it’s time to free my mind and take care of me and mine.

To finally let

my f*cking heart rest.


Swipe Right

[Here I cum]

Taking and making it literal, lyrics to a track, one constantly and thoroughly listened to. Flavourful, sweet, possessing tantalizing beats and backed with mercenary MCs, Selfish by Slum Village gave guidance to the obsolete. Not proper in morality but kept one propped on two feet. Storming through, cashing checks and snapping emotional necks. Though recognizing the danger and fear of being sucked in, neither nearly as severe to keep this one from sliding in. Tangled in the veins of separate hearts. However, decisions shall be made, and those plural hearts will minimize to one, maybe none. The idea of hurting others is what makes this one sputter. “Never compare women and have to choose between them,” mother yells into one’s eardrums. Sparking tinder, near a bumble hive. Connections, emoji flames and bees, burned and buzzed their way onto my cellphone screen.

Yet hearts will be broken, and the world will keep turning. Spinning out of control, I’m dizzy.