I dream of running away to a place of quiet, of freedom, my own harbor. I have always been an escaper.
The Calm
I woke up today to the same crazy world.
The hum of dread was there
but dim and nearly mutable.
Living
What do you do?
It’s like the third question you ask or are asked upon meeting someone. And the subtext is really how do you make money? What is your job/career? How do you spend the bulk of your days?
Making the Invisible Visible
I’ve always wanted to tell my story. Abused children have to be good secret keepers. I had to be very careful to not tell anyone the truth. As I got older I thought I could write my story. What happened to me. My feelings. My hurts. My desires. My view.
Deconstruct
There is a baby in the house.
And honestly?
This world seems to scare her.
And I get it.
Abdication
Filling up a needy person’s cup is exhausting.
It is more of a job than one person can manage.
It takes a team.
Aftermath
How could you not see
me drowning?
Why did you not hear
my cries for help?
Relapse
The old pain
long gone but remembered in pixelated detail by this body
synapses fired
messages sent
distress from the root to all its arterial legions
awoken and fighting in moments.
T'was Brillig
This time of day is no-man’s-land.
Not the morning
nor the evening
Not the high noon
nor the afternoon
Vestige
Today I went to the restaurant that used to be a tchotchke shop.
I wore my t-shirt with the logo of the donut shop that used to be down the street.
I wore the necklace that my mother doesn’t remember giving me.
I went home on a one-way street that used to be a two way
Zero Fucks
Have you ever seen a photo of yourself that captured everything that matters about you? While cleaning out my attic this spring I found just that photo. I believe I’m in about the third or fourth grade. I’m wearing my beloved tennis shoe roller skates.
Fail-safe
Emotions are on overload
bubbling and churning violently beneath the surface
all fall into fail-safe mode
Some make jokes
some get busy
some get tired
some leave
Swallowed Up
Swallowed up by longing
To hear that voice again
To know
Those hands
That laugh
That terrible driving
Open
Open. I really like this word. It is probably my favorite. It holds within its four letters an invitation, a call, a welcome. Words that mean the same tend to by overt antitheses of its opposite; unlocked, unbolted, unlatched, not closed, unfastened. If we are talking about doors and gates, these states of being are reassuring and logically straightforward.
Doldrums
The wind was not great
But it got me out here
To the middle of this ocean
This wide expanse
This lonely forever
Green
Vigorously verdant
Plenteous and viridescent
Proliferous and fecund
Burgeoning and flourishing
Feracious, generative, breedy
Gravid, loamy, and profuse
Green
Sacred
I grew up going to church, I was an acolyte. That means during services I would wear a robe and cross, light and extinguish candles, hold the giant Bible for the pastor to read from, and help serve communion. I always felt very special when it was my turn to acolyte.
Enough
Little girl,
I already call you princess,
You are pretty
You are cute
You are sweet
Resonance
The beat of the drum
Carries across the parking lot
The rhythm lures me closer
The song resonates in my bones
Its tempo keeps time with my heart
Intuit
I sit down to write
what I think
what I feel
but there is always a block,
a haze