Open up your heart,
There is so much pain
Outside its walls,
Open up your heart,
And know it’s better for love when shared,
Open up ,
Up is where you will find
The freedom,
Open up,
And know you’ll be letting in
The love,
The light;
This goes both ways
Category: Memoir
Alright/ All Right
Pain, but not the tears
Is what makes me doubt my moves,
but something is right
Uncomfortable,
And yet not unbearable,
Yes something is right
But not everything,
The setting is not correct,
Therein lay the work
Some things are all right,
Just, this is not the best place,
This is not our scene
The time is coming,
To make our exit stage left,
Making things complete
Calling
There is something
That pulls at my core,
That nudges me awake
With gentle urgency,
Immediate need for something that has always been,
Unknowingly,
Within me,
never before could
My mind envision
A future that I might perhaps
Come to see,
The universe opens up to me
And speaks
That I should know:
The universe is always here,
Always aware,
It bends and folds,
Twists, turns,
And we,
Things made of Stardust,
Move with it,
For we are part and parcel
Of this thing called creation,
And as I feel this movement in my soul
I know something,
This unnamable,
never fully knowable everything
Is calling me
Perfectionism
The aggravation
Is not worth your peace of mind,
Let it go, dear child
What I’d Do
We fuss and we fight
But what you wouldn’t do for me,
You move heaven and Earth,
Plow the world to rescue me,
Damn what you wouldn’t do for me,
And we’re messy,
But beautiful,
And you would give everything,
You vowed to once,
And you do it again and again,
God what you wouldn’t do for me,
And all I can say to even compare,
To repay your everything
Is damn I love you,
And tell me
And I’ll do anything too,
For you
On Rebirth
I can see my healing now,
In my words…
Before, I had grasped widely
for hold of sanity,
My mind spun,
Outlining all the abstracts
Seeing the metaphysics of everything
Until, like the universe
I exploded
In a big bang of psychosis
Then slowly
Though Not understanding the why
I began to pick up the pieces of self
Little by little
I write my way out
And back
And reflect on
What happened?
What had I become?
What was I becoming?
Was I flowering or
Decomposing
When I exploded?
Or both?
Or was this just
Another
One of many
Of my rebirths?
She of Letters 