The Girl I Once Was

July 13, 2017

I saw her today,
The girl I once was

She did not recognize me
How could she?
She looked forlorn
And her poetic verse
of melancholy
She,
at odds
with her mind
Society
And body

I listened
To her song,
And smiled

I told her
It would get better
But there would also be pain
“You will find happiness
In sources
Your young soul
Can not yet fathom”

I told her
Not to overlook good
Where it is
And to savor
The pain,
From it “you will grow
And nurture empathy,

“From this all
You will become
Me”

Status Update

July 11, 2017

Irritated
by childish tweets
courtesy of the commander in chief

Frustrated
by the “news”
When monopoly controls the sources
And what journalists can say

Sick
as women and children
become negligible casualties
of the patriarchy

Tired
as black, brown, red
And lgbtq lives
Still struggle
to prove
they matter

Helpless
as lives become subject
to the terror on target

Suspicious
as IT produces
what anonymous faces
Think we should see

Eager
to spark light
And climb out of the dark
Of this Orwellian American dream

Bouquet

July 11, 2017

Starting  over,
Picking pieces
To put together
A bouquet
Of my own

Independence is fragrant  
With excitement
and trepidation  

But this is my own
And I  will  own
this arrangement
As one picked
by and for
All that is essential
to me

Game

He asked her
Not to love him,
And not to analyze him,
Then laid a labyrinth
At her feet

Twists and turns
She can’t
Help herself;
But wants to
Trace it’s path
A game
She is not strong enough
Not to play

Vieled

July 5, 2017

She lost her footing
Once before
Imagining she was imagining
A true scorpion child
In fear
She struck words from the page
Discarded her compass
Deleted celestial lyrics
And cast off her epic tale,

In vain.

Here and now
She cloaks herself,
gingerly tests
tepid water of words
Wanting so much to share
And open a heart, bursting

Fearing a repeat dance
with Maniae
She questions her suspicions
And agonizes
Over understanding
The complex webs woven
by the distant one
she can only love.

Seeking help

May 4, 2017

Silent
We hope for help
That which we fear the shame
Of asking for,
Of being vulnerable
When that is all
We can be

Say
The only thing
You can say
And perhaps
find comfort
In unexpected responses
That may bring
miraculous gifts