Who Will I Love and What Will I Become?
Who Will I Love and What Will I Become?
Richard A. Decker
The electric heater hums steadily
and drowns out silence.
I sit in this plush chair
alone
wondering who I’ll love and what I’ll become.
I don’t know why or how
mom is dead
but she is dead.
And I don’t particularly like who I am.
I am constantly overwhelmed
by all that I haven’t done
like heat from this heater
I am constantly overwhelmed
by the people that swarm my memory
like mosquitos
they suck my blood
with the confidence that comes from their successes
and I scratch the leftover itch
like I scratch my head as I think,
“Where does that leave me”
I am constantly overwhelmed
by the misfortunes that unfortunately dangle around my neck
like one of those people’s medals, only not:
Mother recovering addict now dead deadlines missed antidepressants Zoloft experience rejection missed opportunities neglect cigarette burns on the carpet food stamps child parent mother’s couch where she sleeps cable TV no TV hitch a ride crash a car methadone Klonopin long lines at the clinic before school the words “I love you” hugs thank God for that walls painted with cigarette tar junkies at the door to collect cracked wall from the drug raid newspaper clipping in a birthday card stranger in my bed when I came home mother died on the toilet i am constantly overwhelmed.
Maybe if those people’s mothers were my mother
i would not have to be me.
On good days i try to remember who i am
think about the faces that grin big
mouths that send me sweet words
like i’m biting chocolate
and filling my belly
with a sweetness i was denied as a child
faces that show me what i mean to them
like broken mirrors that reflect what I can’t see
breaking my face apart so i see the real me
in small pieces.
And I think about the girl
and her kind words sent to me quick
like federal express
over a warm cup of coffee
she says, “Hey,
maybe if their mothers were your mother
you would not be you.”
I attempt to read the words she says to me so generously
I like what I read.
And I also attempt to read God
and how He seems to still want me
and how He seems to still need me
since I keep waking each morning
with a slight headache and a stretch.
I attempt to read all the words in those faces
dimpled all over.
I attempt to read all the prayers that constantly cover me
like the warmth from this heater fan.
I attempt to read the families as they buy me dinner.
I attempt to read her arms as they intertwine in mine
and become a part of me.
I think I just read a book for the first time.
and I didn’t understand a thing
but I knew its pages
and its small, strong words
strong verbs
overwhelmed me.
The electric heater hums steadily.
Richard A. Decker
Poet & Teacher
Richard has been published in Moral Apologetics, Larry Ferlazzo’s opinion blog Classroom Q & A for Education Week, and in the Shenandoah Valley National Writing Project’s 2021-2022 More than Words. He has also presented papers at several regional Conferences on Christianity and Literature. He completed his M.A. in English at Liberty University in 2020 and received both the Outstanding Research Award and Outstanding Thesis Award; his thesis is titled Originality, Decorum, and Fantastic Sight in Dostoevsky’s The Idiot. He currently teaches secondary English in Central Virginia.
Photography by Robbie Duncan