The Good, The Bad, The Me

Family

The Good, The Bad, The Me
Photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash

Everything feels so fake

Even the love I’ve felt for the people I know I’ve loved

Even the peace that I had not only craved but grew to know

was a necessity

Like freshwater, when adrift in the ocean

far from land with no compass

that I thought I’d never quell midst the walls of waves

And pride which I pined in the forest and panhandling on the train for

Yet only acquired once I harkened as my sister Serenaded me to Jordan’s angles with such

Innocent voice

The voice whose first word was “tótoto” (which meant parrot in toddler talk) which she learned from a book she received from a kind stranger who secretly gifted it to her

head down, badge covered with quick precise rapid steps

that’s how she caught up to us to make sure the boss wouldn’t notice

to safely deliver the offering to her

just after said stranger caught an infinitesimal glimpse at just one of many toothless baby beams we cherished constantly

Yet soulful:

Electric, Emotional, Exhilarating

that only I could distinguish despite the congregation of children she was told to blend in into

Even the frantic fractals of frost that would frolic much like her and I during summers evenings through the tall grass that would tickle my knees

Into my feet and gradually enveloped my legs when my sister would sleepily slide her freezing feet against mine at night to go to sleep

She took care of me

no matter how annoying I got

whether it be making me a fried egg at 3 am or convincing me to take bath after I engorged on mud pies

This was one thing I could do for her

So I turned the chattering of my teeth into a rhythmic tune in my mind

so my toes could conga line their way back to dreamland land

I guess sometimes Mr. Sandman brought us together in his realm

Even the accomplishment that filled me

and ended up accompanying my absurd attraction

to mainstream, late 90’s and early 00”s anime and acquiring attention

on my shelf of things that are important to me

As I scrubbed shampoo

the herbal essences rose-scented one to be exact that we got at Walmart

and smelled like the rose bushes

we also got at Walmart

Into my mom's jet black hair

which was as sleek as a stealth government secret

even when dry even

when she tried to curl it

And birthed billions of bubbles

which I would take in my hand

and blow around just to watch all the rainbow spheres dance about

Knowing I had helped her cleanse herself

She could do that all her own

in fact, I was obviously a bother

But she knew it was important

and I caught on too

Mind you I was short

So I was placing things at the bottom shelf

but for that

I strained myself to my limits

and nudged it to the highest place possible

Even the delicate delicious delight

of gazing up

bubbly blinding white clouds

whimsical wisps

were the foreground of the

Captivating cerulean

like the kooky teacher when they make the whole class erupt in a joyous uproar

that morphed into

An astounding azure

when the laughter seized and the lesson settled

and you realize

they just gave you a hidden gem of advice

the kind you’d have to pay to hear elsewhere

anywhere at lower quality

leisureing and lounging

from the sizzling solid steel truck bed of my Uncle’s red pick

that despite being weary, worn, and weathered was taken care of as if it was the top of the line sports car in the dealership’s showroom

while exchanging stories of what the

creatures in the constellations

lives must be like beyond the blue with my

Brother

Even the silly suspicion of bunnies ears

that was so enormous to me at that time

I could pick up on the song of the universe

That I sensed crept up behind my head coincidently when cameras came to capture whatever shenanigans we were up to

But could never confirm

because I wasn’t swift enough

how could I be with such massive ears adding such an unfamiliar weight to my head

But always suspected lied behind my

Brother’s mischievous grin

that spread from ear to ear

and I could see faint outlines of bunny ears

behind him too

and I knew that he must have once heard that song once too

Even the lukewarm bowl of corn flakes with bananas and sugar

my dad would make just for me

over and over again

until we ran out of milk

if we were in Mexico would he

run out and milk the cow just for me?

Even the shockwave that the huarache sent Throughout my body

that felt like an earthquake had its epicenter in

The middle of the ocean

No Aftershocks

But I thought my seas would never see stillness

yet that wasn’t even comparable to the remorse

I felt knowing I had flung my mom into her

Worst nightmare for a few hours

Even the damp, dingy, dungeon of despair

that later transmuted into

an armed and armored airship of anger

when I was never delivered

the goodbye I prayed for like a good Christian girl at the end of my bed every night before restless sleep form the father foreshadowed to fail

Even the silent storm of fiery fury

and rabid rage fired out of sister's eyes

Straight at me like a heat-detecting missile

before she had to rush her baby to the ER

to make sure her arm wasn’t broken

because she didn’t have the luxury to wait for an Ambulance

I think I’d prefer the silence

If I heard sirens I’d break my own bones

Even the grotesque grime green slug

Of disappointment

that oozed out of my brother for ages

but the clock only counted 3 minutes

That left me drowning in a trail of clear slime

As to see my vileness

When I ignorantly revealed to him that I would

Never “love” a half brother

Even the frenzied frustration fired up in my brothers face

when he had finally indulged himself with a new shirt

he never bought himself “nice” things

whether or not something was worthy of exchanging his hard-earned money

hustled with quesadillas and haircuts

was evaluated by

practicalness, precision, and price

yet he entrusted me to wash his only navy blue crew neck sea island cotton t-shirt

it wasn’t actually that nice but to him it was

If it wasn't only for me to

Carelessly toss it in the wash

Stain it

And stain myself with it

Even the panicked pleads

that were actually bombs

that my sister made to meet her real sister

That pierced my ears like fission

And shattered my soul

Condemning me to eons of bad luck

where ground zero was her car seat and the

Mushroom cloud was so expensive

It engulfed my entire world

Somehow I survived

The radioactivity mutated me

I’ll probably be able to move on once all the

Toxicity has disappeared but

the half-life exceeds that of bismuth

I’d rather nothing be real

then to know I inflicted that pain

on the people I know, I don’t just love

But rather, the family

I accept, acclaim, admire, adore and appreciate

love poems
Blanca Martinez-Pardo
Blanca Martinez-Pardo
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Blanca Martinez-Pardo

I’ve been waiting for other people to give me the title “creative”; but I’m taking it for myself now! I will write without expecting praise as long as I feel pride within.

See all posts by Blanca Martinez-Pardo