A sampling of some of the words that enter my mind.
Every Time
Every time I judge myself
I cling to the leg of systems
That are served by my suffering.
Buckets
Cry me your buckets of tears
so I can see your signs
All 12
Let me see the man
and the woman
who must rise
for you to see
me – us – them;
that your I am
is mine,
and mine
is yours.
Know this –
you were taught to deny your entirety
it’s happening all the time
So don’t be afraid to see it.
New landscapes are built
from the grit of your journey
It’s not wrong
It just is
You build dynasties
from the ashes of your ancestor’s sins
Your chest may hold their pain
and your shoulders the atrocities of him
You may be a sponge
for the repercussions of the splintering of love
But it is time
to take your finger off the pulse
of something that’s long since dead
It is time to witness what’s being built
from the ashes
It is time to see the beauty being made from the madness
Trauma Bonds
I’m drawn to you
Because you hurt me
In all the intricate ways
I’ve learned
how to hurt myself.
In me
I see the strength
and fragility
in 68 years.
I see the fear
and the 14-year-old
in 40.
I see the child in the man.
The little girl in the woman.
And I see them all in me, too.
If I can
If I can give,
even when I feel taken from,
I can live fully.
If I can allow my tap to flow,
even when the ones being offered to me are systemically stagnant,
I can grow.
If I can say, “OK, I accept my part in this,”
and not just blame others,
I can see that I am whole.
If I can be generous,
even when I feel choked of love,
I can be free.
2002
I didn’t need him
I wanted him
And he needed to reject me
We both needed to get more intimately acquainted with the cycle of abandonment
And hell did we ever
Hell is what it felt like at times,
He onto another as quickly as he left the last one for me
And me, retreating further into the cycle of blaming myself for Every. Last. Issue.
“If only I’d been perfect…”
Fucking yuck
It was messy and terrible
but it was part of a plan,
a plan neither of us had any clue we were a part of.
Every last ounce of ouch was savoury perfection
And I wouldn’t trade the sting
For anything.
Stay
Stay with me, doubt said
If you get to know me
you won’t need to be so scared of me
You’ll learn that I’m in everyone
and only powerful
If you believe I am all that there is.
Back To Born
Coming back to born
Could mean being ignored
Denied
Ostracized
By the ones who tore you away
From who you were
The day you graced the planet
With your presence.
Beacons
I remember how quickly forever
became right now
How the tunnels became filled with light,
beacons for the unknown
to surface
and say
Take me in – I will set you free.
Channels
Bring me your broken dreams
And I’ll help you salvage them
Not replications of what you once craved
But newer; better; louder; deeper.
You don’t need to know how or why
Just believe that it can occur
Give your hopes to me
In the unknown
And I will make it so
And so it shall be.
North Gate
You are the northernmost gate
to your own healing.
You are redemption,
it bleeds from every pore,
invisible, yet felt as an unsedated slice
Your limbs scream and your hairs raise with inherent knowing
It’s verified, that you are your own fuel.
The years just distracted you from the truth for a while.
I don’t get it
Because I don’t get you
I will shuffle you into a category.
That way I can fear you more clearly.
The harder I push you
The more people will see
That I am not you.
Or am I?
I’ll market it as a being a decision based on superiority and intelligence
So no one will ever know.
Or will they?
Can they see what I’m doing?
I am so scared.
