The Big 3

I had a “normal” life.

I had a house, a yard, and became a wife.

The year 2017 started off as any,

but there were many issues I had to fall from, from the year before.

No one’s life gets to start over because it’s a new year, right?

My marriage was broken, like an unspoken agreement of hate that even spewed through our smiles when we tried.

My plans with my other true lover masked the insecurities of never being alone.

And then my other lover was taken from me at the hands of his motorcycle that made him so free.

My plans were gone, how could I see through a fog so thick? How can one see at all?

When you love like that, I’ve been more than happy to take the fall, but he’s not here anymore.

I had a “normal” life.

I packed my shit and hit the road, being told by my eldest bro that he was glad I was leaving.

It’s not what you’re thinking, because he paid to help pave the road here.

He asked me, “Did you pray about this?” I told him I didn’t really pray but I did wish, so does that count?

His last text message to me was, “I love you, sis.”

I’m still angry at the burning words and tears it took to preserve into what I thought made sense.

I am my brother’s keeper, I’ll always come to his defense.

I had a “normal” life.

I started to become angry with the thought of it.

My love, my brother….I told everyone that my heart hurt and that I couldn’t go through another.

It’s painful—sinful.

My dad thought the same.

I was so focused on me, my own source in this rain.

He needed me, but I came to Austin.

We needed each other really- but we were both so exhausted.

I took my pills and went to bed, and awoke to a phone call…

My dad had taken his own life, and now he was dead.

My love, my brother, and my dad gone in the same year.

Only just recently has the fog become clear.

I had a “normal” life.

As I let go, I think to myself, this is my new life.

Forget about normal.

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