Mind Maps
Lying on Momma's sofa, memories walk in, lead me astray, away from my safety net. Momma walks by, " You alright?"; " Mm", I say. I stare at my phone, she sits near with a crossword having no idea where my mind is at, or does she? I feel loathed, ugly, sad, broken. I don't want to go down the road to why my father left me; the road comes to me. I try to bypass this gnawing pathway, to avoid yield signs, run stop lights, push through the traffic in my brain; no can do. He's right in my face, saying, "Love you, be good, do your homework, okay?" then boarding his flight. I am sure he will be back as he always has been. He called every Sunday at eight p.m. sharp; the man was a machine. He used to read poetry to me over the phone when I was missing him, stuff he'd translated from some French dude, Rilke was it? I loved my father's eyes, all sad like a puppy; his generosity and good manners when we were out and about together had me looking up to him. Then I came out, questioning my gender identity. First to Momma cause, she's just easy with me, always. I plopped down at the foot of her bed and told her, " I feel like a girl inside." She said, " I understand." That was it. I was like, shit, this will be a breeze with Pops, too. He's like a puppy-dawg, a marshmallow cupcake who reads poetry. I wrote him an email; he wrote back, " I have to let it sink in awhile." Then for awhile there were guilt deposits from him into my bank account; five hundred dollars on my birthday, no contact, more money come Christmas, no contact. No answered emails. No returned phone calls. Momma got real mad, like frothing at the mouth rabid about it all. She tried to reach him, wrote him and said he was a cruel-assed bastard. She really wrote that. I look up, my eyes glide carefully from my phone screen to Momma mumbling to herself about 26 down on her crossword; she asks me if I know the answer, God knows I don't. I have no answers to anything. I shift a bit on the sofa and watch her. I know she is all I got. My inner road map is taking me home, right to her heart where I know I still belong.
Comments (4)
Whoaaaa, this was so freaking deep! Awesomeeee Haiku!
I've never really liked saunas. But the idea of sweat as releasing that which is no longer mine, I like that. A lot.
Oh yes. So good! Physical/mental sweat. Great haiku! 💫💞
Great haiku