Vulnerability: I Love

Image: Me before my 9th grade social (2001)

Vulnerability is my vulnerability,
I pick and choose
the pieces of me to share
I shuffle my deck,
Lay my cards out
Then scuttle back,
Back in,
Under cover
To safety,
Concerned others might see.

Or, I did;

Until
Sometime this past November,
When a New Birthday gift
Enhanced my shell,
Made it stronger
And made it removable,
I need not bare all,
But I can bare.
And I can be so damn proud,
And openly admire
this body,
this mind,
this heart,
this soul,
With all the bumped,
Bruised
Smoothed,
Filled,
Filed,
Etched,
Modeled,
Molded aspects
Of this vessel;
Of this person I am.

This person
She is Beautiful;
Authentic,
Wild,
Ever growing,
Ever learning,
Ever being;
For she is living.

And I love her;
She is Me.

Philia: An Ode to Friendships

At times I cannot see
My best friends
No, they are not imaginary,
I could not imagine such real,
Such complex,
So beautiful, intricately crafted,
Crafting,
Pieces of living art.

And for me they are the caring,
The loving,
The knowing,
The voices when advocacy is needed,
The silence when just
they
Are needed.

Their presence
Remains,
When all others depart.
They are the set-up
And clean-up crew,
They are the party and the
Private after party;
They are there.

Philia;
This love I feel
In the deep recesses
Of my heart and soul.
For these diamonds
That at times go unseen,
Their flaming shine
Goes unforgotten
In my mind.
And in my heart
These friends– their love, and my love for them,
They stay.

The Bloom

This is open,
Parting of shell,
To test the rain;
water

She has been burned,
Scorched
Even by the familiar sun,
Been made weary of Trust

But this is now trusting
The unknown,
This is realizing
She has lived far past her early fears,
And is not a blooming body
Receiving judgment,
She now is
The Bloom,

Awake,
Aware,
Knowing her worth,
She sifts the soil,
Deeper in
The sands
Of space and time,
To find her other half,

1 worthy
Of the bloom
That is She.