To be human.

Wish I didn't learn that love is about control.
Give me that stove & use me as your fuel.
Do you enjoy the heat? Is that why you
won't let me go? As I watch my dreams
dark as the smoke.

Wish I didn't learn sometimes it's better in the cold.
With strangers who are neither friends nor foes.
An exchange or two might spark the old hope.
Then part ways again before it can take hold.

It's dangerous to be human, haven't you been told?

I’m not your mother.

I don't want to be your mother,
just because I needed you to survive.
I may have deep love for you,
though I don't know why.
But I'm not your mother.
You are mine.
I learned to take your temperature
before I took your milk.
I learned to make up my own faults
before you uttered a word.
I became "wise" and "steady"
before I could be wild and authentic.
No, I won't be your mother
or anyone else's mother any more.

Go to hell.

I will not be my own enemy,
you're making me feeling cheap.
Selling me cancers, heart burns & skin rashes
while I miss out once-a-lifetime rain.
There ain't no space for bargain
I know what I have & it's priceless ownership.
Too many of me & just one of you?
Please, is that what your mama told you?
You have no truth, no clue & everything to lose.
Strop bringing everyone to your level.
That level of hell is not worth the crackle.
Why don't you just let go & drop to the bottom
them maybe you will come out the other side
and I won't be waiting.

Where to put it.

I drop things because I don’t know where to put them. My head has long since run out of space. Since I don’t care or dare to clean up the mess that’s already there. There’s not much really, but I don’t want to pick them up and examine them as if the mere act of paying attention to them will make me less. It doesn’t make sense, I know. But I’m not a wise person, and I’m stubborn. That’s what I’m holding on to. I’m someone who chases thrills and shies away from meaningful anything. I’m afraid that I was not worthy. I’m afraid that this life was not worthy of me. Is it silly? While growing up, learning to self-appreciate reminds me that there’s no intact mirrors to look upon. Were my parents proud of me? I don’t dare to evaluate. So I’m locked inside, and I lost the key. Years, decades go by. Maybe that’s just how growing up works. We can’t learn the lessons beforehand (unless you’re wise). I used to be jealous of the people who “don’t have” to learn life the “hard” way. All I was doing was resisting learning. So it was hard. I was stubborn and not wise. I can be a little still now, so that’s progress. I’m learning to be OK with who I am not.

Not my burden to bear.

Shut up & leave me alone,
I was not born for your bullshit.
Save your trauma & drama,
you've manipulated me emotionally,
enough is enough.
Keep on using me till
my heart is hard &
my mind is numb.
Guess you don't care,
the show must go on.
Well, shit, it's not my burden to bear
and I have a life to live
so goodbye & tough luck.