Bigger Than My Body

I hate being described as the skinny girl
Getting dissed & dismissed for being small
Like all that I amount to, is my lack of extra skin
when my body, is only a place where the size of me begins
If I could somehow be cracked open, & laid bare for
all the world to see, with this pounding heart (as a place to start)
measuring the expansiveness of me.
I am big, even infinite.
I am a lover & a mother, a daughter, sister, & an aunt
I've carried Loves & burdens that much larger people can't
I have held a dying hand & sang
"Amazing Grace" to help them go in peace
and stroked the tiniest fingertips
singing lullabies til sleep.
I have learned tough lessons about disloyalty & pride,
I've been moved so sweetly, hurt so deeply
 I have laughed until I've cried
I've recovered from rape, only to have
someone I Love be preyed upon & victimized, 
reliving the horrors tenfold, when I saw them in their eyes
Being forced to go back
 & fight the battles over & over again
wanting to wash the memories off both
of our minds & skin
Yes, I've faced deaths & births, war & woe,
& walked alone down the hardest paths
where even the bravest men won't go
See, I am so much heavier than whatever it is I weigh
What really makes me big is that I can still wake up
everyday, and find beauty & joy in the world
& despite the pain, I can still be in Love with it all
what I'm trying to say is that despite my size
everything inside of me, really isn't small

unlearning

Is thirty too old
to retrain my mind
& unlearn the pains
I've acquired?
I yearn to Love
fearlessly
with a wholehearted 
wide-eyed 
Belief. 
But I am thirty.
I have seen
the devastation
I've watched homes crumble
seen lives reduced
to rubble, left
crushed underfoot.

How do I erase that from 
my heart's memory
& wake up feeling
sure & secure
that Love is really more
than these wounds
I am wearing inside.
I struggle to hide
from my fears
find myself fighting
to choke back the doubts
before they find a form
to spill out
& wound someone
who doesn't deserve it.

Because, at thirty
trust is sometimes
a hard pill to swallow.

the simple truth

We had arrived
At this
crucial moment
All communication
Had broken
down
To a point
Of no return.
 
"I'm going to tell you
The truth," he said.
"I've always been
A liar. "

to be brave

He asked me,
"What if this goes wrong?"
& I told him gently
that there are no
Guarantees in life.
Sometimes, you've
got to make the choice
to be brave.
Like the heroes 
who go running into
burning buildings
with only a hope
That they'll make it
out alive.
"Certain risks are just
worth taking"
I said.
So we joined hands
& walked together
into the flames.

falling in Love in the springtime

Fragrant swirls 

of bright

spring sunshine

stream down

collecting pools 

of golden warmth

& pollen

in my hair.

All the bees will

envy me,

my honey, sweet.

Rolling sticky

& thick with Love.

We're laughing deep

in the soft

green grass.

Frozen moments

of Heaven on Earth

Together,

we become

timeless

For we've created

our own season.

on your Love of Bukowski

I think you like Bukowski

Because he's the kind of

Thick skinned

cunt-of-a-man

You've always wanted to be.

So, you shape your poems

In ways

that fit his forms.

& you

Force

that same bitter &

Hardened nonchalance

To fall with crushing weight

from your tongue.

You're so full of

Those razor blade words

That seem to

sharpen your wit

& drive the point home

Straight to the heart

of the matter

& cleanly through the hearts

of anyone foolish enough

To get too close

So go on.

Knives out &

Bluebird in...

you're very

nearly there. At this pace

You'll become that bastard

in another verse or two.

fingers

my humming fingers

wake & break  

the morning silence

melodically drumming

against my coffee cup

or pouring my heart

onto a blank page

while they’re

wrapped, passionately

embracing a pen

instead of the tremulous

strumming they’d make

singing out a

symphonic climax

across the continent

of your skin

oh, yes. my fingers

are awake & pressed

against the keys

that pay the bills

still sometimes longing

spills out of them

composing prose

instead of data entry

all in a day’s worth

of mindless work

to kill the time

but I always find

this, meaningless

the full power

& potential

of my fingers

is never realized

unless

somehow

they are reaching you.

ex girlfriend

I can recognize Love when I see it

(& I can recognize loathing)

just as well as you.

If her looks were lances,

surely they would cleanly pierce me through.

What kindness should I offer?

To the one who would lie in my bed

if she, now, had the key

to your current doorways.

No dear, do not begrudge me

for my lack of trusting

her ulterior intent.

She once came, and went

where her tides left you half-drowned

washed up, on lonely shores.

So forgive me,

I won’t ask you to distance her

if don’t expect me

to cherish her, anymore.

math (a poem about Love)

you’re afraid,

i think.

to admit that Love

amounts to more

of life,

than

all of the scrap

change, it has left

in your pockets.

you’ve got

your hands crammed

in deep.

clinging

to your last quarter

of hope, where

pennies in patience,

and a dimes

worth

of diligence

clang together

worthless &

unspent.

 your past

can be

 all summed up,

with

subtraction &

dividends

so many

complicated fractions.

i've never been

one for equations

myself

but i will share

a secret.

Love is an exponential

“X” factor

& multiplies in you

the moment

you give it away.



vibrant... (on turning 30)

It’s not that hard to reminisce

back to the time

when I thought 30 was old.

I hit that milestone today.

But, I am no longer afraid,

on the contrary

I feel immensely brave.

Strong. Capable. Steady.

ready to take on the world.

At 30, I am still a girl,

but now

I have got a lion living

underneath my ribs. The kind of lion

who roars & brings

mountains & oceans

into being.

at 30 I’m finally seeing

the forest for the trees.

 I am here.

standing at the threshold

of a decade that is

waiting to unfold

I will embrace these years

with Loving, open arms

not fading or growing old.

I am simply blooming

into a deeper,

lovelier shade

of life.

Yes, I am ready. To bid

a fond farewell to the darkness

of my naïve & reckless twenties.

Departing that rollercoaster

without looking back.

30 is the new 20

Vibrant is the new black.

valentines

Alone in bed
I'm folding
origami flowers,
Paper boxes,
Paper hearts.
Putting my Love
into little things
that are small enough
To ship to you.
How compact
can I make my
affections?
What forms can I
give my feelings
that will hold strong
for the journey,
But still retain
the same
tender beauty?
I'm alone in
my bed tonight
packaging these valentines
& you're in a distant city
Sharing poetry
with someone else.

a quiet communication

sometimes

there is nothing

    more

than silence between us

(or the soft white humming

   of a forgotten television)

  

I sit with my

   dinner, next to

him, with the daily paper

   resting

      haphazard on his lap.

he is a man of

          so few words

& the stillness here

   is absolute. but,

it’s not uncomfortable,

              only quiet.

we are content

  to sit like this because

my Father

      sees in my eyes

  the same dreams

that once shined in his

& because he speaks

  that same

muted,

 but hopeful language,

he understands all the things

   I’ve written

into every single

pause.

so,  when he looks up

from the black & white

     woes of the world

& spreads his smile towards me,

            I hear his pride & his Love

without a single sound.

the swarm

this is how time stops

in an emotional influx

with a surging swarm

swimming inside me.

(and I feel like

the boy from that

book I read

who had bees

living in his belly)

all chaos & rage

hidden,  but buzzing on.

 a carefully contained fury

you’d never notice

at a glance.

please, don’t ask me

to smile or speak

I’m afraid that

if I part my lips

these stinging secrets

will escape

& damage someone else.

re-collapse

I remember this feeling

now…

the slow pain

creeping under my skin

burrowing into my chest

then shattering my ribs

one by one

ruthlessly ripping me apart

tearing its’ way

from the inside

out.

yes…

how could I ever

forget this feeling?

the anger & fear

that implodes

rocking my body

to the core

while shards of

whatheldmetogether

ricochet through

newly hollow places.

it’s strange how fast

it all comes back.

a bomb of betrayal

like a flash

forever burning,

& seared into

the backs of my eyelids.

how i can bear the goodbyes

I've grown to be
really good at goodbyes
almost unflinching even
(When once I winced)
at the slow & awkward
unstitching
That finds us
fumbling
& bumping heads
Both timidly
but somehow fervently
tugging at the threads
That bind us
While still trying
not to damage
that frail fabric
Which once held us
Tightly together.

I've grown so accustomed
To goodbyes
that when the time comes
And we're both standing
awkwardly
with a strange emptiness
gaping at our sides
I will even thread my needle
& stitch you shut with care
then top it off with
a kiss for the pain
& a band-aid.

I've become so used
to goodbyes
But it is simply because now,
my heart is always waiting
at the edge of the doorway
with a hand ready to push it open
For your easy escape
I have grown so good at goodbyes
By no longer believing
in the hellos.

personal geography

face down in heavenly blankets

my thoughts & emotions swell like the sea

our hearts beating,

rhythmic as rain

the thunder of you pounding out against me

pouring over the curves &

the continent of my skin

your nature, unyielding

beginning, again & again

to unravel the mysteries of each valley.

& no stone is left unturned

all secrets unraveled, forests fallen

my strongest walls are burned

by the heat of your passionate fingers

while fires fade & hands retreat

some ceaseless singeing always lingers

long, after you leave, & I’m left

changed & bound to a memory

no storms, or wind will wash away

what you’ve done to my geography.