MixTape

pouring myself
empty
the news is full
of ominous warnings
marriage and children
are dangerous to
women's health

laugh at the cruel
joke
already shaking
in pain crippled
a bit at at time
from oversharing

out of everything lately
out of luck
out of money
out of patience
and desire
and freedom

when did time
alone in my head
and a mixtape
become time off?

Hindsight

I was born
a Daddy's
girl
payment in kind
for the son he wanted
and would not have
till much later when
he no longer wanted
to be anybody's father

When my Daddy left
because he had discovered
that being Daddy took
too much out of him
I cried 'til I was sick.

When he told me
years later that
leaving was just
what Daddys do
I could not cry
because I had no
more tears left.

And even though
I have not seen
my Daddy in
years because
he couldn't wouldn't
be anything like a Daddy
couldn't wouldn't be
bothered to pay any
respect to the dead mother
of his children because it
was all too much...even now,

I am still Daddy's girl
the girl he raised me
to be smart unafraid
the equal of any man
in strength and bravery
knowing deep in my
bones that men
even Daddys
can not be relied on
ever.

Denial

I dream nightly
of the worst things
that can happen.

I am an actor
and I have
rehearsed my part
many times with
a patience that springs
from a life
of the worst.

Once the worst has happened
you can never be surprised again.

I practice what will happen
when you die so that I
will not be surprised.

I have buried you
an infinite number of times
and still, when I see you
sleeping peacefully
I am forced to confront
the idea that I can
not practice for
the worst.

You ask me why
I am weeping
and I can not
share with you
this fatalism
that you will
die and I
will be
alone
again
forever.

I can not
tell you because I
can not admit
that I try to
barricade myself from
the worst. I can not
admit that I practiced
my mother's death for
years before it ever happened.

It did not help. I could not
conceive of a life without her
just as I can not conceive a
life without you.

Still still still
I practice I rehearse
I do not want the
rawness of grief to
shock me, swamp me,
destroy me.

I do not remember
how to be alone and
I fear that when you
die I will come apart
from the aloneness.

Can we be forever
as we are now
together young
and unblemished
together
striding forward and
not alone?