These poems are a journey That began in the light of hope and love Then slowly meandered through increasing darkness They dare to expose the skeletons and demons Barely hidden behind my front door for too long The narration begins in the middle After darkness had well fallen And documents my struggle to breathe My desperate journey to find myself again
And for those who live with horrors who wear human faces If I found my way free I know you can too Let these poems serve as proof That though it is not easy Freedom can be won You can take your life back Write the story exactly as YOU wish it to be
Sometimes the dragon burns down the world As long as you’re standing No matter how wounded You can slay that dragon You ARE the hero of your story YOU get to say when the story is over YOU get to decide how the new book starts YOU get to do whatever the hell YOU want Take my story and forge it into your sword of courage SLAY
I fucking hate homework And projects And assemblies And parent-teacher conferences It’s a gauntlet of pushing and pulling Begging and beguiling Praying and pleading I have to pretend I know what I’m doing Convince teachers I’m a capable parent When I feel like the absolute worst I’ve used all the gas in my emotional tank Before my children walk back in the door “What’s for dinner, Mom?” “I ripped my pants, Mom.” “I have a field trip, Mom.” “I have a project due on Monday, Mom.” There are more moments than I am proud of Where I mourn my party of one days Then one of my sons says “I love you, Mama.” Points to my chest and asks “Are you ok in there, Mama?” Takes my phone and tucks me in and says “You’re sick, Mama. You need to rest.” I start feeling like less of a fuck up Like I might be getting something right Like we all might just be alright
Oh it's you I knew you might find me again one day Minding my business Unaware and defenseless I knew you might show up on my doorstep Inviting the resurrection of my long disused heart I thought we had an agreement An understanding, perhaps You see, I have no desire to let you settle here again The soil in which I am planted is not good for your roots You salted it well long ago Do you really not remember because I still do And yet here you are Bags in hand asking if you can stay a while Looking at me with familiar enticement Dressed up in pheromones and endorphins With all the charisma of a red carpet return I have not forgotten how fickle you are How you overstayed your welcome How you left me heartbroken I don't trust you You're too good at feeling good I forget too easily how you are besties with misery Stop looking at me with eyes that want to know me Stop looking at me with eyes that want Stop attempting to pull me into your gravity I do not trust I can break free again I don't want to have to break free again Don't you understand you are not safe for me Don't you understand I need to feel safe I do not trust myself in your presence I am scared, you see You see, I am scarred So very scared So very scarred The last time I let you stay Nearly dismantled me So no Do not leave one speck of dirt on my doormat I beg you to to forget where I live I do not want your false promises I do not want you to be seen by you Your attention has cost me too much And I'm still in debt for it
Spring has arrived Birds sing sweetly In quickening branches bursting with blooms My winter soul peers out of bleary eyes Before I pull the covers over my head
I am the fourth daughter to do it alone Independence and survival are in my DNA Only child to a single mother Only granddaughter amongst the cousins Only kid on my block I have lived in comfortable aloneness most of my life Do not believe I do not get lonely I know how to remedy loneliness Trusted family Tribe Are always a keystroke or "hello" away
I'd prefer to have a partner To help me raise and support my children But not at the cost of my independence My independence is foundational in my peace If I cannot retain my independent spirit I cannot sustain my sense of self I need a partner who walks alongside me Who understands that I need to run in my wildness Who does not try to domesticate me Into something less than myself
Aloneness is not absence or lack It is the space where I meet myself It is the door to my Narnia The place where unfettered dreams thrive Where words waltz in ballgowns and tails Where stories bloom from rich soil Where I sit in conversation with discomfort Where I sit in conversation with my gods It is the garden of my delights And it is as precious to me as air
How do I manage alone you ask I understand that I'm never really alone I'm as alone as I choose to be I'm helped as much as I choose to ask for it It is not as perfect or simple as these stanzas may imply But the essence of my truth is here Simplified Distilled into a comprehensible version Of my vast and complex reality A demonstration of shifting perspective Being alone carries so much oppressive connotation I choose to experience it as a necessary liberation Allowing me to navigate life by my own north star Inspiring me to never lose sight of myself again
I don’t know what I’m doing I don’t know how to adult Waking up everyday to Some new unknown challenge I’ve been told that God doesn’t Give you more than you can handle They don’t tell you God lays out A buffet of mild to spicy experiences I don’t think I’m a fan of buffets
I am no poet I am an observer A curious wallflower Peering into the places most do not dare The voyeur blending in and watching Keenly aware of the scene and vibe
I am no poet I am a witness A lyrical historian Peeling back the layers of what is obvious Making note and taking measure Commenting on the beauty and the bruise
I am no poet I am a documentarian A mental photographer Describing the visage of the soul Capturing the form of feeling Casting light on dreams
I am no poet I am an illustrator A linguistic artist Scratching lines on paper Forming images from curves of ink Building portraits from words
I am no poet I am a woman A single breathe in the wind Performing no obvious magic Sharing the same life experience Human and divine
I want to revisit the joy of cartwheels in summer grass Serenaded by the wing beats of bees and the chorus of hummingbirds and sparrows I want to drowse amongst dandelions while playing Warshak games with passing clouds in azure skies I want to hide beneath curtains of willow branches Making friends of the trees with whispered secrets
I want to run time backward To when summer days were never ending And daydreams frolicked in the warmth of long lazy unburdened afternoons I want to sit suspended in the amber of youthful memory Its glowing lens casting every scene in warm nostalgic hues Golden hour light cast upon fading Kodachrome images That compose dust mote-filled summer slideshows of my heart
Words Wishes and Wisdom 