Reaching

Something about that neglect...

Her neglect...
It makes me feel like a kid again

Spinning around in my room looking up and twisting with the ceiling fan

Arm span expanded out wide from my wrinkly shirt sides

Covered in sharpie streaks and pencil lead smudges

Begrudged looks from my mother

Her

When she would walk in mad I'd made yet another mess of myself

The other day my mother was critical of my restless habits and constant absence 

So I told my mother you've had your go at being young and wild and now let me have mine

And she told me "I know I messed up" with a sigh. I know I made a mistake. I know I made a bad 

decision, the fault is mine"
Like having my family was a game and each child was one more pitch right down home plate
Until she struck out

With a shake of the head she put her headphones back in and got back to her K-drama

Where youths have fruitful romances 

In languages that apparently much like her own, we fail to understand

Tongue twisting and flicking in ways our ears cannot seem to grasp...

And impromptu broadway type dances

Glittering lances soaring high into starry skies

As eyes lock and then lips lock 

Stock full of cheesy romantic lines full of promise and vulnerable

The best part is when he finally admits he loves her too

In fact he always knew he had since she was three

Until he finally decided to whisk her away on bent knee

And then four seconds later the screen goes black

It's been some years 

They have a beautiful boy who's five

And once they end my mother always rates them out of five, a golden six

All the while I've been looking into her eyes and straight face

Blank white laced with powder and creases but no amount of make-up could ever hope to mask the

Fact that she is not happy

And we all know half of believing comes from seeing 

But my father and siblings see it everyday and nobody wants

To believe it

She runs to her dramas and soaps

Falls into the arms of fictional loves

Instead of the ones that walk around her
We're nothing more than sudden wafts of wind
Or murmurs and whispers from behind her ear-buds 

That only want in

She never wanted to be in the sort of marriage she seems to be stuck in

To have the emotionally defunct husband that she thought she could change or fix

The kind of man that would not swing her around and shower her in kisses to show his love

But rather hold her simply and quietly because he knows it means a lot to her...

Or to have the job that she slaves at

Nor the sons she's birthed since her first "wrong turn" which seems to be synonymous with marriage..

She never wanted to be so tired and empty

Never wanted to have her mistakes propped up on one hip and another tug at her pant leg

Or tell her they just want to make the best of their youth while they have it

But I, we, never asked to be your mistakes 

We never asked you to stop living your life

Mother I love you, 

And I'm forever grateful that you brought us out into this world

Your world

With such warm love

But your arms are starting to shake, mother

Your lips are turning purple-blue, mother

You're sinking, mother

The sloshing ice is swallowing you

But dammit nobody ever asked you to be the martyr

There is room on this floating bit of wreckage for you too

And we're all here, some more audibly and visibly than others, reaching

So if we mean anything to you, grab my hand.