Why do you not go back To where you belong? Why don't you ask family? Unfair laws, jail, racists, Didn't want to die Had to protect the babies. I didn't walk through fire And brimstone to get myself Out of Hades just to face this Questioning, on and on. You would think they would Find their ignorance embarrassing But no...they don't. Get a lawyer, go to court! Get a divorce! Forget Those charges that you caught. It doesn't seem right? Just fight. You are right So you have to win! Justice was not built on right And wrong, But how much money and Power you can throw at it And for how long. I have neither. I am bound to lose But you judge me Without walking a single Day in my fucking shoes? And lose, and never see My boy again? And be thrown Out of my home? And lose Everything I fought to get? Whatever lawyer I can get He can pay for double. That man could pay For Satan himself To squeeze himself Out of trouble. Didn't mean to trigger you You are being so unreasonable. Why are you so angry? Why are you not more pliable. The last time a fist Drove itself into my face I swore on my own Bloody murder I would Not allow myself to face This injust justice This sham of pretense And show but still I can See, you just want me to up and go. I know how much I am wanted, What else do you want me to know? That you think I was Wrong. That you would have done Better? That I failed to perform Well enough in very Stormy weather? Why don't I? Why didn't I? Justify. Defend. Identify the problems Fight systems in order to mend. Survive. Thrive. Pay. Do it with a smile on my face. In the end I know I don't hold A single fucking ace.
I never write notes or explanations on any of my poetry, but as I am sitting here with tears pouring down my face, after an incredibly traumatic conversation with someone who was meant to be ‘helping me’ and that I am forced to have contact with, I suppose I will point out that as much as I wish it was over…it ain’t over. It won’t ever be over. And I am meant to do this clean and sober and with a smile on my face. Pitching stories, making a career, being functional and polite and decent year after year. I think people mistook me for some one I am not.
“You are strong. You are strong.” I am sick of hearing it. I am not fucking strong. I love. That is it. That is all. I love. I love my son and I can’t bear to see him struggle, or worse…not see him at all. I lost too much already. I am trying to keep the wheels on the bus, but it is spiraling out of control. I don’t see how I am going to do any of this at all.
I’m trying to force the tears back down. I have heard for years and years, “don’t let the kid see you cry” like I am some kind of automaton, some kind of inhuman freak that is able to control myself absolutely for years on end. I am not. I am not even close. I am a raging ball of emotion and pain and longing and disappointment and loneliness. I suppose it will be alright. Or it won’t. It will be alright, or else I will have to kiss the Boy goodbye and know I failed utterly to win even enough time with him. I so wanted to succeed. I so wanted to protect him. I desperately wanted to stay close to him. It was all a pipe dream. A vacation.
I guess we are out of here in September. And not only that the very people I was relying on to even understand what happened to me, seem to not give a flying fuck at best, and at worse are terribly hurtful and offensive.
Asking an undocumented person, who became undocumented because they are fleeing DV, why don’t they just ‘go home’ when the situation and dangers have been explained time and time again, is not just insensitive, it is cruel. My mistake is I expect kindness from others as I give to them.
Detroit, over and out. Stay safe out there, it is a wicked world.