Mind Horse
In the empty plains
where everything is distance
When I am surrounded endlessly
in the vastness of the feels
I whistle up
mind horse
who comes galloping nowhere
illuminating
the grown over path
The speed of mind horse unparalleled
Smooth the ride on
Earth holds no boundary
no gravity
no barrier to appear
Close your eyes
inner hear mind horse
Appear before the barriers
Gallop hundred centuries in hundred steps
Time walks no distance
And no distance cannot be unjourneyed
By my glowing horse
Break the pattern
You always said, 'I'm telling you what my father told me, don't wait too long to have kids.'
When I turned thirty, you took me on a long walk - and explained my own dwindling fertility to me - as if you couldn't understand why I hadn't yet produced a child. Another disappointment I suppose. I made many excuses - my low wages, my high rent, my partner's reluctance to become a father, the increasing conflicts within the world, the collapse of ecosystems, pollution. All of these reasons were real - but none of them is what was truly keeping me from motherhood.
The truth is - I didn't feel equipped to become a parent. I was painfully aware of my hair-trigger temper, my disproportionate reactions, the undercurrent of violence that flowed through my veins, always threatening to come to the surface.
My own world felt so unsafe that I could never imagine willingly subjecting an innocent being to it. Because children are supposed to be nurtured and kept safe. They are supposed to be encouraged and loved unconditionally, so they can grow into the beautiful and unique (and yes sometimes frustrating) person they are supposed to be. And I didn't get that from you as a child. The home I grew up in felt like living on the edge of a volcano. Sometimes dormant, usually spewing lava - but occasionally blowing up and destroying everything in it's path.
Now I am healing and learning healthy communication and emotional maturity. Maybe one day - with the right partner, I might feel safe enough to nourish a child. Maybe not. Either way, I am determined to break the pattern here.
I just wish you would take the time to come to terms with your own childhood trauma - I can't imagine what you have suffered to make you as you are.
Mom’s Shattered Armor
Doesn't feel real your eyes
vacant lost searching the ceiling.
Six minutes into the seizing
a sound like glass breaking - my armor shattering.
Even though I once thought my armor could shield you from anything.
But ohh how I hate Science, a cold goddess, for not always letting me keep you safe.
Because still so surreal
your empty eyes stare back beside me.
I lie there with you, waiting for the moment you come back
it doesn't feel real
it never feels real.
You’re only two.