I saw God today
He presented himself in the form of
Sweat upon my child-father's cheek
and the dirt underneath my grandmother's worn fingernails.
I saw God today, everywhere, everywhere.
He was the ant
crawling in the cracks of the sidewalk
The fly I crush easily with my thumb
The upbeat, trashy song playing repetitively on the car stereo.
I saw God
in the slanting moonbeams coming through my closed blinds
Their patterns of light playing upon my forearms and thighs like magic and beautiful realizationMy mother can be such a bitch sometimes.
She's so blind she can't see past her nose -- no her short, stubby eyelashes.
She barges into my room, my privacy that I've worked so hard for, breaking my trust and acting as if I am some criminal on bail. Yelling like she just caught me doing drugs or watching porn, not just typing up poetry on my laptop.
Doesn't she even care about anyone else?
Has she ever tried to apologized for anything sincerely?
She can be fake, she can be pretend-happy, she can be angry as hell for the wrong reasons, deceiving and manipulative, but never apologetic. I have never heard her utter the word "sorry" in my life, as of yet. I'm still waiting. Maybe when she's on her deathbed how many years from now, she'll accidentally spill a hot drink on my shirt and say "sorry" and then ignore me for the rest of her hospital stay until...
But not even that, I think.
It's sad that she's sitting in my room right now, trying to outlast me in terms of "staying awake". She's simmering with anger just sitting on my bed, glaring at me and watching me type this -- my way of trying to ignore her words. Of course she isn't really watching. She's going to fall asleep any second, because stupid as she is, she has work at 8 this morning, so really, she should be the one in bed right now.
Funny thing is, I probably would be asleep right now if she hadn't thrust open my door with full vengeance to criticize and insult me.
Do I feel bad about saying this about her?
She's said worse about me. This is what I learn from my parents. The ability to insult and yell at people. How amusing, eh.
I looked over to my bed, and yes, she's gone. It's almost surprising. I thought she would've lasted longer this time. Last time, I let her win. Not anymore. Two can play at this game.
Does this make me a bad person?
I guess so.
But I bet what she was doing as she sat on my bed:
Praying her little heart out, crying out to God to change me, to make me perfect, to make me submit to her every will, to scrape out my brain bit by bit until I am as obedient as a robot.
And how ironic is that, that she's willing to pray to a God she doesn't believe in about something as trivial as my bedtime? The fact that I can't -- WON'T -- sleep before 3 am in the summer. Who can? It's the summer. It's not as if I have school in the morning. I went to bed at 1 last night. Slept at 3:45.
Shouldn't she pray about her relationship with my father?
Has she ever supported him in anything? They're MARRIED, for crying out loud. Marriage does not break off every other day and have huge shouting matches with each other.
If they are going to act like crazies in the house, where Jenny, Jacqueline, my grandparents and I reside, please please get divorced so we can find some peace.
And to say, "What the fuck have you done this whole summer?"
And to not even hear my answer. That makes me as angry as hell.
To start arguing over every little thing, even when my grandparents and my baby cousin, Jacqueline, is right in the next room, a thin wall separating her loud voice and their quiet sleep (which is so hard to find when taking care of a 1 yr old baby), that is just wrong.
Too bad she doesn't ever believe she's wrong.
I didn't cry, but now I feel like it.
I hate how she makes me feel like crying.
I hate how she makes me want to hurt people.
How she makes me write shit like this and rethink every flaw in myself, every mistake I've ever made.
I hate how she treats me as if I'm disposable.
You know I spent a great day on Monday with one of my closest friends.
We finally got to talk and it was so carefree and wonderful.
Her parents are completely the opposite of mine.
It was so nice to just be part of a normal family.
And guess what:
Tonight kind of just ruins it.
Every time, I think she and I have patched things together, she goes ahead and does something unthinkable and hurtful to me, and I can't forgive her because... she never even has the courtesy to act apologetic.
I tell her I'm not perfect,
I tell her she's not perfect either
But I never have to chance to fully explain my words because her fat tongue can vibrate faster than mine and soon she's rambling on about what a bad person I am, how stupid and ugly I look just staring at her, how I'm going nowhere in life (I'm 16 for God's sake! where am I going? who fucking knows! all I want is privacy for now, all I want is hope, all I want is petty, material things, give that to me -- I'm not asking you to stop a war for me, I'm asking you to give me peace and letting me feel good and happy with myself for even a few days), how I'm so irresponsible and unthoughtful, how I bring this family down.
Reminds me that no matter what -- I cannot change this family
Nothing I can do
but wait for them to change their ways
or for me to move out at the end of this school year
I just need to get out.
I feel so normal when I'm out with a good friend
or when I'm dressed up all pretty
or when I'm smiling at strangers I don't know
because then they might think that I'm happy and normal like them.
Tonight was a good night. I was happy.
Now I'm not.
How fleeting happiness can be?
Even simple contentment is so easy to be broken.
How when I finally accept that my parents are not perfect
She gives me more reason to hate her.
I used to think my father was the one who ruins everything.
Now I think she is.
She enjoys conflict. Control.
I'm still up and listening to music.
This is how I am at certain times of the year.
I feel good, then things happen.
Then I feel bad.
How can I feel good again?