How….
Much
for that one in the window?
Colors beckon
Pretty white, smart yellow, funny brown
In that order
No black
No adjective to describe
That one
Come
your color ain’t the same
as me
as us
as them?
Sometimes the colors blend
but most times
they clash
Does
it feel to lose
mother
country
heritage?
To be alone
among all these
colors
©2007 Kim Eun Mi Young
I was talking to a girlfriend tonight, who’s kinda in the same kind of relationship I used to be in. And I thought “who the hell are these guys, and where the fuck do they come from?!”
It’s so hard, because we love them so much, but to stay with them means to be eaten up alive…and slowly, which makes it even more torturous!
Why is it that the men we meet love our personalities and our independence, and then when they have us, they want to ground that into the dirt and remake us into gray little nobodies who sit around waiting for their call?
Sigh…and what does that say for us? We’re educated, we’re smart, and yet…..
I love myself….I think I love myself….maybe I don’t love myself enough.
So, I turn on the tv and see that Rachel Ray is talking about skin damage and women. She brings on some 20-something guy who berates a woman in the audience for being a smoker and tells her “you just have to stop or you’re going to look like this…”, and then they show a picture of what she’ll probably look like in 10 years. Reminds me of those photos they show of crackheads to scare kids from starting down that dark road.
I’m 40-something; been smoking for about 30 years. I smoke to prevent myself from killing someone! Given a chance to go back in time, I never would have started, but that’s where it’s at. Smoking relieves the stress when I know that my newest doberman has peed somewhere and I can’t find it. It dulls the olfactory senses when I leave a client’s home that smells like pee, poop, and well…old people. It calms the rage when the soon-to-be ex tells me he’s leaving, after 9 years of supporting him financially and emotionally (while he was trying to become the best fucking musician he could be). So, if smoking ages me, the tradeoff is worth it!
How do I get through this darkness
Wanting to be alone
Feeling all alone
Wanting to scream
Only to sob
The aching, the fear
Of what is happening now
and what will happen next
Packing up the things I bought
for you
for us
brings new tears and new hurt
How did this happen
I was not supposed to be left
again
I am supposed to leave
later
When I am ready
When I am strong
I accepted the nothingness
of this relationship
I accepted the loss
of what I wanted
for the gains
that you received
I turn to the warmth of my dogs
but it’s not the same
as two big hands
one big body
I want to smell you
I’m glad you took your clothes
I can’t bear the scent
of loss
of abandonment
again
I wonder
if my mother cried
like I do now?
I wonder
if she still cries
No, no!
This is not about mother
But it is
All loss smells the same
Can’t focus
Can’t sit still
but can’t move
I rock, like the infant I still am
He still calls
and I wonder
Is it better to be abandoned
quickly
or a little at a time?
I’ve experienced both
I think quicker is better
The cut heals faster
numbs quicker
but the scar remains
How do I move into the light?
What light?
The dog paws me for attention
Wags and licks as I pet
I am her light
For now, that will have to do
©2006 Kim Eun Mi Young
I cry
but no one comes
this room
with many beds
with many children
with much noise
with no mothers
I wonder
alone at night
surrounded by family
so much gratitude
so much love
why there is so much
and yet, so little
I rage
in someone’s arms
I rage
with every drink I take
with every blunt I smoke
the rage is unanswerable
the mother, not found
I search
with desperation
with despair
with hope
the sounds of mothers
calling for the children
cries from keyboards
To come home
not mine
never mine
And so,
I cry
for that room
with so many beds
with so many children
with no mothers
for myself
©2006 Kim Eun Mi Young
What can you say to us
The “chosen”
The lost children
Of birthmothers
Too wounded, too young, too selfish
To care
What can you do to lessen the pain
The rejection
The anger
The knowledge
Of trashcans and city steps
Orphanages and foster homes
Two worlds
We step lightly in both
Ethereal
Not belonging to either
Floating
Disconnected and distant
What do we say
To mothers born and mothers made
How do we make you understand
The grief
The unconsolable
Unbelievable, undying, unending loss
©2006 Kim Eun Mi Young
Ten months
Pass slowly
Like water drops in slow motion
We try to mend
This relationship
But can’t get past
Your wanting to be free
And my wanting to be loved
Weeks of nothing
Followed by days of
Consuming passion
Laughter
Followed by
Memories of pain
Hazily clear
Dulled sharpness
What is a slap
But a hard kiss?
A chokehold
Nothing more than a hug
That takes my breath away
And yet
Each punch at the wall
Is a blow to my heart
And like glue to glass
Cannot be made whole again
The drop finally falls
Explodes into nothing
And is no more
© 2007 Kim Eun Mi Young
