Abbi Fox

            Volume 42 ~ 2019

 

                  

 

 

 

 

Dear Momma

 

I hate you.

I mean, I don't hate you, but I hate you.

I hate your choices.

Someone could hold up a lollipop and say candy or kids?

You would slowly walk towards the candy.

Someone could say, party or quality time with your family?

And you’d be out the door, a beer in hand.

Someone could hold up a bag of dope and say drugs or your daughter.

You wouldn’t have to think for a second.

I hate how you make me feel.

You come around after years, tell me you miss me,

You say momma’s sorry,  momma missed you.

You tell me how beautiful I've become, how proud you are of me,

you promise you’ll do better.

But you never do.

You left me stuck in a house, praying I would die.

Momma, you knew he was taking advantage of me, but didn't stop it.

You stood by and watched,

left me at a house for a week because you would rather stick needles up your arm than care for a daughter.

All I wanted was a mother but that is something I will never get.

Everything you do haunts me just like that R rated movie you let me watch when I was six.

Your memory is in the back of my mind, stabbing me like knives, not letting me sleep.

Too many nights spent crying till no more tears could fall.

“I want my mom, Momma come back”

Sometimes I ask myself why.

Why wasn't I good enough for you?

Did I do something wrong?

Momma, I just want you to love me.

Please, momma, tell me what I did.

In reality, it was you.

I tried, momma, I really did

I did my homework

I was home on time

I got my varsity spot

I tried my hardest every day to prove to you that I was good enough.

You didn't care. You never did.

Momma, I lied.

I don't hate you.

I love you more than you will ever know.

I may hate the things you do,

the things you say,

But at the end of the day, you will always be my mom.

No one will ever replace you.

Maybe someday you will realize I'm better than a needle.

Momma, I can make you happy,

I just need you to care.







 

Like Them

     Have you ever looked at someone and wondered, “Why can't I have what they have?” Imagine a poor boy sitting on the curb downtown at the farmers market selling honey from his family’s farm. Jake is trying to get enough money for supper. He looks over at the local coffee shop to see other kids laughing and drinking overpriced espressos without a responsibility in the world. One of them drops a quarter and keeps walking while Jake, who has been sitting on the corner all day, sprints over to pick it up. That quarter meant nothing to a boy who just spent over five dollars on a single cup of coffee, yet meant the world to Jake, who needs five dollars to buy supper so he doesn't starve.

     A single thought. Why can't I have the happiness that everyone else has? It's like that moment right after Alex scored the game-winning point. Alex should be exhilarated. All of her family should be in the stands screaming their heads off, so proud of her. But what if Alex only has one person sitting in the stands for her. Her grandpa. She’s so happy, thinking I just scored the game-winning point. Shouldn't my grandpa be so proud of me? But when she goes up to talk to him, the only things that come out of his mouth are the negative things Alex did throughout the game. Nothing he said was positive. She didn't even get a “good job.”

     A thought to ponder. Why can’t I have a loving family like most? When you ask a friend to come over, their typical response is, “Let me ask my mom” or, “Let me ask my dad.” But what if every time Hazel hears those words come out of someone's mouth, it hits her like a ton of bricks. Just like when it’s the start of the big varsity game and she’s running through the tunnel of girls. High-fiving them after her name is called. She's on her way to go shake the refs’ hands. When she looks into the crowd and sees all the loving parents standing there with signs for their daughters, she scans and scans, but knows she will never see her mother or father. They will never be in those bleachers cheering her on.  She knows they are missing their daughter's high school experience by choice. She thinks about senior night, how she won't have parents to stand by her like the other girls. I can't help but wonder, why can't everyone have what other people have?

     But isn't that what's wrong with today’s society? Everyone is weak. No one can just accept what they have. Nothing will ever be good enough. Nothing will ever be fair. You could give someone the moon and they would complain that they want the stars. Not everyone has the same situation, but everyone has problems of their own. I may have the moon, and you may have the stars, but neither of us will ever have both.







 

On Friday Night Dylan Finishes his 30-pack of Bud Light and Leaves Us with this Aftermath

 

Dylan woke up, but Tessa didn't.

Tessa told him to let her drive.

But you know guys and their pickups,

No girl gets to drive their baby.

Tessa told him to stop,

But a pile of empty cans filled the bed of his pickup,

Their lethal substance drained.

Tessa told him to pull over.

But we all know how hard it is giving guys advice.

Dylan put his hand on her upper thigh.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    But she knew how drunk he was.

Tessa told Dylan to slow down on those corners.

He took it as a challenge.

She tried to buckle up.

Dylan told her to live life on the edge.

Dylan looked over at Tessa, just for a second.

He tried to bring the pickup back on the road.

But the pickup rolled.

Dylan woke up too intoxicated to move,

alive.

Tessa tried to wake up,

But never did.

He has to live with the consequences.

Knowing he should've died instead.