Ode to Kelly Clarkson

{ A Mile in His Daughter’s Shoes – Pt. II }

My phone has a message on it.

It’s Rema.

“Btw, have you watched Kelly Clarkson’s performance on Idol? I never heard the song until she performed it on Idol and I instantly thought of you <3”

There’s a link. Intrigued and completely unaware of the song’s subject matter, I click on it.

Big mistake.

It’s 7:15am and I have precisely forty-five minutes to feed and prep my children before the school bus pulls up.

Am I doing any of that? Hell no. I’m curled up in a ball on the couch, half sobbing, half assuring my boys Mommy is so not crying.

Continue reading

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Self-Proclaimed Orphan

April 13th, 2012.

That was the last time
I looked in the mirror
And saw
A daughter
Staring back at me.

Children
Are the ones who grow
Up
And
Outward
But for us –
It was
You
Who
Outgrew
Me

I’m sorry
For the child I was
I was just
Lost
Confused
Scared

I’m sorry
It was
Him I missed
Him I cried for
Him I needed

When it was
Him who wronged you
Him who hurt you
Him who changed us

I’m sorry
That it affected
My life so

But that was then
And this is now

Years came
Years went

And
Somewhere
Along
The line

You
Forgot

Forgot that you are a
Mother
Forgot that you have
A daughter

Forgot that one
“Happy Birthday”
Can
Make
A
Difference

So now
Here I am

Two parents
Walking the world
One –
God knows where
The other –
Beneath my roof
Without
A thought spent
On their
Faded
Daughter

And all that’s left
Is the
Broken
Heart
Of a
Self-Proclaimed
Orphan

Ode To A Best Friend Broken

I wrote this in 2010. I’m reposting it here, today, because I think she needs reminding.


“Take a minute, girl, come sit down and tell us what’s been happenin’
In your face I can see the pain, don’t try to convince us that you’re happy, yeah
We’ve seen this all before but he’s takin’ advantage of your passion
Because we’ve come too far for you to feel alone,
You don’t let him walk over your heart
I’m telling you…”

My mom once told me that when it came to loyalty, I resembled an anchor; that when I cared, I cared with all of me. I would get frustrated running myself ragged, desperately trying to claw my beloved’s burden off his/her shoulders, only to place it heftily upon my own. This is my gift and my solemn curse. Many a time it’s been used against me, a hypothetical gun pointed at the bridge between my eyes. The fingers wound around it? My own. I shake my head at its existence but I refuse to apologize for it. Because caring that deeply is love and why would anyone feel the need to express regret over that? Keep reading.