I reach inward and
hold onto my center
taking refuge in my core
as my edges fray
around me.
I close my eyes
enduring the quakes
and pray
that I will hold.
I reach inward and
hold onto my center
taking refuge in my core
as my edges fray
around me.
I close my eyes
enduring the quakes
and pray
that I will hold.
Poem 21
I leave one toe
pressed
firmly against the
ground
and try to leap
into faith
with my free foot
I straddle the line between
where I am
and where I want to be
knowing I must
pick a side
I say I'm a believer
but I can't shake my fear of
what will happen
when I let go
and am only holding on
to me.
Poem 22
I have spent a long time
growing
and shifting
changing
and evolving
gradually
slowly
moving ever so slightly
wrapped in my
little
cocoon
but now it's time to
unfurl my legs
release my fingers
raise my head
and revel
in my newness
Poem 23
I didn't know I could
fly
I told myself
silly girl
I replied
what did you think those
wings
were for?
Poem 24
no turning back now
the only way out is through
had you forgotten?
Poem 25
be still
take comfort in
the quiet
let the seconds
inch by
allow the days
to drag
walk
don't run
enjoy that breath
place your hand
on your chest
let it pulse
in time with
your heartbeat
tomorrow is not going anywhere
Poem 26
I strain and pull
words from places I had
buried, places that were
forgotten, places I found under layers of
who I am and
who I was
and
everything
anyone
has ever thought of me including
me
I bring them forth and
dust them off and
polish them until they
shine.
Poem 27
Will you still
love me after the world has changed
and I don't need you.
Poem 28
Forgiveness
does not require forgetting
The past holds lessons.
Poem 29
Freedom is
being able to breath freely
in your own skin
Poem 30
I sidle beside her
and almost touch her
but she slips away again
always one step ahead
I call out to her and
promise her things
but when I reach for her
I am grasping for air
I am not sure that
time and I
are friends.
Poem 11
Home is where I feel
warm and safe and at peace with
who and what I am
Poem 12
love is wandering
but not lost
coming home
to a new place
with the same smells
quiet
like morning
just before the sun
rises
loud like the thumping
of your heart
inside your ears
when you're standing on the edge
of something great
calm
like the sea
after a storm
but wild
as the roots of a tree
hundreds of years old
love is a living thing
Poem 13
Those seconds when I
first wake up
and
don't remember
you're not here
I roll onto my side
smile in my sleep
and reach
into the space
where
you should be
I am fully awake now
and I tell my journal
that lonely
is a noun
the absence of a person
a place I go to reluctantly
this thing that keeps me
company
when you're not here.
Poem 14
I write because there
are words in my head
that bed to be strung together
and
I think
only I can make
sense
of them
they beg to be epic dramas
and short fantasies
stories that have no beginning
stories I wish wouldn't end
these stories
these words
they crowd my insides
until I release them
unable to take a breathe
until they're told
Poem 15
My poems are time capsules
memories
captured in verses
thoughts
from a time
I can no longer touch
A one way window
letting me see
the she
I used to be
when I need help
remembering.
Poem 16
I stand on the edge
and stare down
below me
My toes tease the open air
I search for fear
in the pit of my belly
but am met instead
with butterflies.
I bounce on the balls of my feet
close my eyes
and take a breathe.
There is nothing to do now
but leap
and trust me wings to carry me.
Poem 17
I am
suffocating
suff
o
cating
suffoca
ting
there is
no air
anywhere
no
potential
for a breath
I am
fading
running out of
options
Poem 18
I delivered my
children. and they delivered
me. shared gift of love.
Poem 19
Change is inevitable
but when
will the lives we've lost and
the lives we stand to lose
mean enough
for a change
to be made
when will that distant tomorrow
finally become
today
Poem 20
my heart beats a bit
quicker these days it feels just
like falling in love.
Poem 1
I close my eyes
and paint images of my
sheros and
heros
across my mental landscape.
Bold brushstrokes and
striking contrasts
in radiant reds,
vivid yellows and
and vibrant blues.
They shine so brightly
when I open my eyes
and look at my own
reflection
I am fuzzy around the edges.
Blurred lines
and muted colors.
I peek into places
I wish were filled with greatness
and find only shallow pools of potential.
I diminish myself in the shadow of
everything
I wish
I could be
and define myself
by what
I am not.
Poem 2
I wander down the path
barefoot
taking my time
letting
my feet
get familiar with the pavement
before I take
my next
step.
my arms brush my sides
as they swing
back and forth
and I veer off
a little
to the left
I lay down
sink
into the grassy cushion
and watch
as the sky passes
pale pink to dusty rose
dusty rose to violet
violet to indigo
and I wait
In the space of
the shutter of my eyelids
it happens
it appears
my North Star
Poem 3
I live in the space where dreams and reality hold hands
and whisper to each other all their secrets and sorrows.
I dance in the hollows left by the spaces where they don't touch.
I spend holidays in the no-man's land where everything
and anything is possible cuz no one's rules apply.
I live in a space where dreams and reality combine
to create a place that is wholly and uniquely mine.
Poem 4
Invisible to the naked eye
I wrap myself up in it
and strut
down the street.
I listen to the whispers
I feel the stares
Folks see my smile
and wonder aloud
"Does she know she's
naked?"
I chuckle at what they
cannot see.
I settle into a satisfied smile
and I look down at my body
covered in
the impression of your kisses
when your lips have gone,
the warmth of your palm in mine,
the tenderness of your fingertips
on the bare small of my back,
the moments that pass
between us when not a word
is said.
I smile at those people
as they gaze at me
confused at the height
of my chin and
the certainty
of my steps.
They cannot see
I wear your love
like a second skin.
Poem 5
Each year as more distance grows
between me and
it
I hope to forget
but my stomach tightens
and my temper shortens
and my joints stiffen
before I am aware
of my remembering
Call it muscle memory
Call it aftershocks
from an earthquake almost
two
decades
old
that invades my body
before alerting my mind
and I go days
puzzling at the shift
trying to pinpoint
the reason
I am turning inward
on myself
burrowing so deep
I can not find me
But then my head
catches up with my heart
already broken and rebroken
and mending as best it can
and I cry conscious tears
as my whole self mourns
my knowing.
Poem 6
Nothing happened
I made it home
Two feet through the door
head atop my neck
sitting squarely on my shoulders
every hair in place
no tousled locs holding tales of trauma
I am
fine
I made it
But the sound of those footsteps echoing mine
The shadows cast on his face
in twilight
and the familiar fear
The tightening in my chest
The tension in my muscles
The painful rapid beating of my heart
that remembers
what has yet to happen
that remembers
violence can come from familiar places
as easily as from strange ones
that remembers
the impressions left on its spirit
that linger long after the impressions of fingertips
have faded
I wish I could forget.
Poem 7
Breathing life
I am breathing life
I wake up
and before I open my eyes
I breathe
life
Knowing air will keep my
pulse pumping
and my heart
beating
but life
will be what keeps me
alive.
I inhale
and exhale
big gulps of living
until my nostrils flare
and my
throat burns
but the pain is a reminder
that I am here.
Poem 8
i make worlds with my
words hoping to manifest
a new tomorrow.
Poem 9
consistent
in its inconsistencies
unwavering
in its inevitability
reliable
as my next breath
and the one after that
until
I reach
my last
I wait for change
my familiar friend
now that I am wise enough
to embrace it
brave enough
to hold its hand
strong enough
to hold myself
steady
as it dances
around me
Poem 10
The me that is
relfected
in my
reflection
is only
a piece
of me
she is only the part that
you
see
the image I hold in my mind
is skewed
from perceptions
expertly crafted
diligently molded
from the beginning
of my time
I can not see the she
that stands in for me
and sometimes I wonder
which one of us
is real?
his corkscrew curls glisten with sweat and adhere him
to my chest
the beating of my heart plays a lullaby only he can hear
and i run my fingers absently
through his hair.
his tiny bottom lip pokes out
his breath is no more than a whisper
i press my lips to his forehead
and hold him as he sleeps
i envelope him in love
and wish it were a tangible thing
to cloak him
like armor
to protect him from a world i didn’t predict.
did someone swap our staircase
for a treadmill when we weren’t looking?
am i standing in place
still standing in a space
where i have babies
but someone else decides if i can keep them?
sometimes it feels selfish
to offer up these children
to a world full of preconceived notions
that have nothing to do with
the lives they have touched
or
the sharpness of their minds
or even
the contents of their hearts
but in a world ripe with hate
having these brown babies is an act of revolution
and raising them takes
courage
and strength
i love my boy fiercely
in defiance of the fear that i feel
and silently send his sleeping mind
dreams of a bright future
that i dare to have faith in.