Set On Fire.

I found out about it this morning upon waking up to look at my phone (set on silent overnight, as per my usual routine); and I will say that my heart dropped down into my belly somewhere and hasn’t yet returned to its proper place.
I groggily read just a few snippets of the slew of text messages sent throughout the night by my Mom; catching things like:

“Your father (by this, she means my step-father) went to get Boo downtown and hasn’t come back…”,
Or:

“He’s STILL not home, I’m worried…”,
Or:

“It’s been THREE HOURS NOW! I have no car, and I’m going crazy…”
Or finally:

“His phone just goes straight to voicemail…”

It was just the day before yesterday that I sat out on the front porch with him to escape my mother’s  hollering into her Bluetooth inside (she still doesn’t grasp the notion of the other person being able to hear her fine if she just speaks in a normal tone); that I verbalized some very haunting visions to him in a foretelling plea for his logical side to come out and hear me…in total vain, it turns out.

Boo has been consistently dishonest and destructive to my parents ever since that dreaded moment in which my mother was struck by some gods-awful notion that she had to see Boo through the next few surgeries until the tracheotomy is removed and she can speak naturally again; she has brought with her presence in their home nothing but grief and disarray – dope fiend maneuvers, and all things associated with a fucking street hooker’s lifestyle, in essence. My parents are so naive…sickeningly naive…naive from age, apparently. Because, the clueless and vulnerable old folks that each has evolved to represent these days were NOT the two people who I had around during my teen-aged years, by a long shot.

  • Boo’s despicable thievery has, thus far, totaled up to at least: $3,500.00 (yes, you read that correctly) stolen out of my sleeping father’s wallet in the wee morning hours while she was awake and whacked out on drugs; but, there have been other instances as well of stolen cash in much smaller amounts, too.
  • She has stolen family heirloom jewelry (oddly enough, her father literally stole pieces of the exact same set almost 20 years ago) from my mother’s room while being left alone at their house during the workday.
  • She stole ALL of my mother’s medicines (a very notably sized plethora of pills including but not limited to Oxycontin, various tranquilizers, psyche meds, and the handful of different medicines that my mom NEEDS for rheumatoid arthritis and lupus.
  • She stole my father’s entire wallet; as well as a stun gun that was deep inside of one of her bureau drawers.

In a nutshell, she has been horribly ungrateful and disrespectful, she has remained in constant violation of the home that they have, once again, opened up to her in her time of need. Last night should have undoubtedly been “the straw” for both of them…

My father drove downtown last night to pick Boo up at the drop of a dime when she called, claiming she had been punched in the face and her phone had been stolen (I live in the silicon valley, a live and wide awake place where downtown isn’t welcoming at nighttime to the average person); 

when he arrived to the place she had directed to meet her at, he was beaten nearly to death by five grown men who appeared from nowhere – only seconds before Boo suddenly appeared, as well. One of the cowards even went into his car and found his ginormous Maglite flashlight, then proceeded to beat him in his face with it until my dad went unconscious in the street. I was not there…I do not know for myself any of the minor details surrounding this heinousness; but I do know that it changes everything – forever…for ME at least.

Necrotized.

It started off last Tuesday, when I suddenly felt as if a barbed string had been inserted all the way up my left nostril somehow and was continuously wriggling around; by the following day, my left eye and ear were also affected severely. Wednesday morning, I was noticing the appearance of a horrid and disgusting taste in my mouth that I couldn’t wash away no matter which methods I tried.
A sinus infection, I figured…
I went to the doctor and suggested that I have another sinus infection (I am plagued by these regularly) and asked if they would just give me a prescription. They cultured me for Strep, and listened to my lungs before insisting that despite the fact that my lungs sounded “great”, I get a chest x-ray done – so I did. They sent me home with a dose of anti-biotic before calling me back the following day to inform me that they had been duped by my lungs during listening – and that I did, indeed, have pneumonia, after all. Lovely.
I have written before about being a carrier for MRSA, a leftover element of my ex-husband’s attempt on my life that haunts me endlessly; well, this is a good example of its lingering power and control over what would otherwise be an easily treated issue such as a sinus infection.
Due to my already weakened immune system (a direct result of the H-MRSA), and the colonization of this strain that I have unknowingly allowed to occur in my lungs during the past few months during the tax season crunch, etc. – and in combination with the poor status of my teeth, I have allowed myself to incubate full-blown necrotizing pneumonia again. I have only had this type of pneumonia two other times in the past, and both times brought on epic struggles between me and my immune system.
I will win again, I have no doubt…but wow…it is always quite humbling to be tossed on my ass once again by the invisible assailant known as H-MRSA.

Necrotomorph.

I’m writing it out…
finally writing about:
the plague that has come;
quite a while ago,
a few decades or so,
and already
infected everyone.
See, it first started,
to tickle,
at the hairline;
only to dig its way
into my bloodstream
with time…
all while the doctors
had their eyes on me,
the plague crept in
so surreptitiously…
they never failed
to unveil
such wisdom
so fucking blindly…
in the meantime,
this struggling
heart of mine –
became infected
thoroughly.
Clean epidermis,
a futile war…
when there’s
no surface
on your skin
anymore;
though try as you like
to scrub and slough…
truth is, I’m filthy –
you’re filthy;
and ‘clean’ is a joke.
I will never find out
how the plague
came about…
truth, for me
is a delicacy
that I must do
without.
Everyone said:
“oh no, it’s in your head.”
they sold me
on pills in the closet,
instead…
and while I was silenced
by the pharmacy
the plague
was busy
mimicking
my own biology.
Years went by,
disintegrated,
now am I…
stardust-carbon
that has been
manipulated;
shredded fine
these spiraling cells
are no longer mine;
they now belong to
a modified
nano-brew.