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Chapter Eighty-Two: Momma #2

8/2/2023

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Picture
A poem,
​from Cass to Momma:


*Years Ago*


Change in leadership happened quick,
unexpected and slick,
kicked one out and brought another in,
what was happening in between?

T is the one that met you first,
but it was my outfit that became your test.

You noticed We weren't wearing a suit, vest and tie,
my 90's goth punk attitude was alive.

You kept to yourself for a while,
didn't ask questions much,
We questioned if you were good or vile.

*Fast Forward Months*

T always protecting the System from newbies,
but clearly you meant business,
and no bullshit.

Would have never guessed what would build up after a few days,
as they turned into nights of closing together, I started noticing--
girl, you slay!

Maybe we became friends too quick,
quick enough that the big boss became bothered,
there were too many rumors cooking in that store,
but I could care less,
was easier to drown the noise when working by your side,
somehow you got me,
and I got you.

Little talks here and there,
you always noticed when I didn't share.
I blame your "mom instinct,"
that shit is real,
it's why you always knew when I didn't talk or "feel."

Eventually you showed how you got my back,
too bad I took you for granted--
let's face it... I was always whack.

Then We opened up more to you to see if you could understand,
isn't that the kicker?
You always did, Momma,
even when I drunk-called you at odd hours of the night,
crying and pleading for reasons not to end my life.

That's what scared you, and who can blame you?
I'll never forgive myself for that-- I assure you.

It's been months since you said goodbye,
and I to you.

I had to face the music,
to pay my dues,
and someone was chosen there to "let me go,"
but I'm glad in the end...
it was YOU.

Then today I ran into what seemed a shadow of the past,
but it was true.

Took me a minute then I realized,
and even though I wanted to stop and say so much,
I couldn't muster it-- I was stuck.

You said you "missed me,"
and my instincts kicked in,
I responded "I did too,"
did I mean it?
Then why did it hurt so much?
Why did I immediately feel so Blue?

I drove away angry,
wishing I hadn't seen you.
My last words to you echoing inside this empty brain,
the Quiet is what now keeps me sane.

You were always like a second mother to me,
that was always true.
So I write this poem to you tonight,
and maybe one day--
Maybe one day,
I'll get what's due.

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    Tortured Poet

    I have come to realize that along the endearing journey most people call life, I’ve met (and still am currently meeting) countless numbers of women. However, as sad as this might sound, I haven’t exactly been the nicest guy to most, if not many of them.

    It is not because of my actions during the timeframe when I met them, but mostly it is because of the consequences.

    For every action there is an equal or worse reaction, and when it comes to the women in my life, this is often the case.

    I have always had my best intentions in mind, but something that is recurrent is that my emotions tend to cloud my judgement and tend to get in the way of things.

    So let me start at the beginning, recollecting memories, thoughts, and remembering dreams of what happened once, what happened next, and what will continue to happen after.

    ​Welcome to my recollection of true events, true people, but most of all, just the plain and simple God-honest, blunt and painful truth about my Chapters and I.

    Don’t expect a happy ending.
    ​
    This isn’t a fairy-tale.

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