CAUTION

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Hello to my cautious fallen angels! It’s been a while since I last checked in. I tend to write poetry and short stories, but there’s nothing wrong with that.

It’s Mother’s Day and the sadness wrecks havoc once again. I was an unusual child. My mother was afraid of me. She called me “the sick boy.” I spoke of death, misery, and hopelessness around the time my parents were divorced, and also during the time I began to get bullied in school. Then, trauma ensued and I became catatonic from the age of 10 to 18. I dressed in gothic garments, cut myself regularly, and tried to commit suicide whenever I was bored so she could keep me entertained. I blamed her for the loss of my innocence even though she didn’t do it directly.

I used to have sex with gangsters for drugs and pickpocket strangers on the streets to survive. My mother was a whore, and there was never food in the house. I went in and out of psych wards, residentials, group homes, and state hospitals. I got expelled from four different high schools before I finally graduated.

By then, my mother no longer bothered visiting me, let alone keeping me entertained. She gave up on me. I am the “Jason Todd”* of her four children.

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*Jason Todd was the second Robin after Dick Grayson. He was murdered by The Joker. Then, he was resurrected by the use of Ra's Al Ghul's Lazarus Pit. Jason Todd became a villain called The Red Hood.

Now I am a grown man. And every Mother’s Day that comes and goes relinquishes the mental bind I constructed to keep these horrid memories at bay.

I am socially rejected by almost every social group dynamic I have come across throughout the years. I am guarded and I hardly let anyone in. I portray this dark persona but I believe myself to be very gentle and kind. I must be cautious at all times. It’s days like today that never let me forget why I always exercise CAUTION.

Well, just because I hate Mother’s Day due to association by my own life’s experience, it doesn’t mean you feel the same way. At that note, I wish you all a Happy Mother’s Day!

Feel free to check my latest book, a book of poetry called Trials and Tribulations! http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B018ZR0IVA/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?qid=1460319936&sr=8-1&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_QL65&keywords=trials+and+tribulations+sufian

Mommy

Daddy

Oh, mother! It’s been four years since I heard your melodic voice, seen your beautiful face, smelled your fragrant perfume, tasted your homemade cooking, and felt your broken heart that now mirrors my own. For so long, it was easier to joke around and hate you for disowning me, but somewhere along the way, I found the tear-stained strength to be gentle and kind towards your antique memory. I don’t know where you are. I don’t know if thoughts of me ever cross your mind. Where are you?! I need you! Oh, mother! I’m sorry! I forgive you! It feels like you passed away! I don’t think you love me anymore! I want to caress your mascara cheek and wipe away all your pain, all your hatred that keeps you from turning the page of a fairy tale that never reached its tranquil end. Please be happy! But I can’t turn the page for you. There’s too much serenity in my own story. I can feel the soil slipping from my fingers as the sadness takes over me and waters yet another loving, traumatic memory. I stare six feet below me into the vast unknown in hopes that something…. anything will grow between us again.