You,
Something happened to you
That you don’t want to touch
Don’t want to ponder,
Because it hurt.
The wound memory remains;
A scar,
Tender,
Real,
Still part of you,
Be tempted to feel it,
This reshaped you,
To know
And accept that the past happened,
And you are not who you were before
You were injured,
But you are so much more,
You are a living work of art
a soul vessel
Being modeled and molded still,
Your cracks repaired with healing gold,
And
Your light glows through
Where that won’t hold;
Beautiful
As you are.
Tag: Trauma
Worth
I want to know of my ancestors.
Yet the epic of colonialism,
Has for generations,
On multiple lines, kept faces, names, and ties
From kith and kin;
Kept us inextricably separated by imagined borders;
Separated with skins and flags of
fabricated colors;
Holding weapons and wealth
Unequal, unequitable,
As motive
For a status quo of harm,
Because just maybe one day
One of “us” will be on the “winning” team,
With change in pocket
And blood on hands;
Yet when in the moment of judgment
Will you be able to
Confess honestly
If any of it was worth it,
As we finally face our
Ancestors.
Collision
Blunt beep of a monitor,
Calling out because you’re not
Connected,
Needing you near,
Needing you here,
Testing,
Testing,
Testing your
Vital signs,
Signing for life,
Making sure you are
Here,
I wait for you,
And you enter,
Bruised and broken,
Like you’ve just come from a fight,
I smile thinking of the joke you’d make,
About “you should see the other guy,”
“Who are you?” You ask me,
“Who?”
You smile,
Your humor has not been injured,
It is your coping mechanism,
To handle the shock, the disappointment,
The fear, the anger
Over what a collision means
For you,
For all of us,
Your wounded body needs delicate, precise, firm attention,
To bandage trauma more than skin deep,
To mend your pride,
To salve your independence,
This is not an easy fix,
This is a 10000 piece jigsaw,
With pieces missing,
Worn edges to mislead,
This takes trust, takes time, takes patience,
Perseverance,
Takes love,
Love,
And more of it still.
Acknowledging Truth
I can’t “like” your pain;
ache to acknowledge your truth
can’t adequately
Recovery
April 7, 2017
Uprooted unexpectedly
Frozen
Blizzard of mind
Meeting Nor’easter
That pushed past limits
Chasing snowmen
She lost footing
Losing
Sight
Snow Blind,
she could no longer see.
Reality,
She knew not.
Lost
Blown off course
Paralyzed
Doubled over
Then
found.
Fragmented.
Then
Rebuilt
Reborn
Finding self
Emancipation.
As she walks now,
aware of
where
she has been,
what
she has been,
Done
And seen,
To recognize fact from fiction
She keeps anchor
In mind
In hand
She is shifting vision
clarifying sight
And mind.
She of Letters 