strength is not just something you just casually
muster up.
it does not show up because you feel like it.
its not a lifesaver
or a passive friend.
its a wild tiger to be summoned.
a wolf of the spirit.
not to be taken lightly-
its a double dog dare from the universe.
and not for the faint of of heart….
its like this:
i can take a leap of faith,
i can have my heart broken into
a million little pieces
and then i can put on cherry lipgloss
and go out dancing,
i can buy an indian headdress on the side
of route 66
and i can drink mimosas and eat breakfast burritos,
decorate myself in glitter to cover up the tears
write poetry
and follow the moon across the desert
all the way back to my empty bed
and not have a nervous breakdown.
i can watch you walk away
and get myself together and laugh really loud
and cause a ruckus
and wear my new black buckled motorcycle boots
and be hopeful anyway.
because i have spent enough days being sad
trying to change things i have no control over.
and i have learned it is possible to be disappointed
and have fun at the same time.
you will not squish my magic.
i will not let you
this time……
the flat stereotypes
of her surroundings
did not apply
so she promply made up her
own.
its your side that
i will always be on
&its your
face
that will pull me out
of the gutter again and again
its your untouched spirit
that teaches
me to stay open and dreamy
&its your undying hope
that keeps
me from being a cynic
or a bitter bitch
its your love
that teaches me
to risk and be brave
&its you
i will fight for
no matter how dark and damp
things get
you.
you.
you.
i am stronger
all because
of
you
my
little loves.
he said
i think you are…
{in no particular order}
sweet
delicate
tough as nails
quirky
and much stronger than you think
&instead of telling him
all the reasons
why
these things
were not true
she simply said
thank you.
i
think
sometimes
the
hardest
thing
is
just
to
not
do
anything
or
fix
anything
or
change
anyone
or
expect
anything
and
just
be
where
you
be.
i have stopped resisting
the shadow
and started
cradling it
like a newborn
carrying it around like a
double sided blade
seducing it
like a new lover
and the very things
i thought surely
would be the end of me
have organically
intertwined themselves
into my spirit
created an overgrown garden
of black roses and white lilies
sharp and precise
the petals are sweet
the thorns are wise
and the fear is slipping out
dark and thick and oil-like
i drip of pain
and dancing goddesses
and of course i understand
ones natural instinct is
to mother
the motherless girl
but these black feathers
plucked one my one
from my bleeding back
are giving me new wings
and intoxicating me with
new power&
im not giving it up
to make anyone more comfortable
or to fit in the molds
i once clung to
im drinking the blood
and owning the crackling voices
im becoming something new
something whole
something
cracked open and thriving.
there had to come a time
or at least a night
where she could
wear her silver glitter
pumps
somewhere other than
her living room
so she took her
witchy stripper heels
out under a sliver of the
moon
and sat
in a cozy restaurant
listening to a lovely language
she did not understand
4 tiny rose glasses flickering sparks
3 baskets of warm bread with pesto and black olives
2 glasses of some very sweet but potent vino
1 glass untouched because of that
a brazilian meal ordered for her
in italian
(and her cheeks burned fire)
a patio deck of white sand, house music
and cushy sofas
champagne
and beautiful girls in tight dresses
with bold patterns
in colors like magenta and tangerine
and beautiful boys
with tailored designer coats
and bronzed silky skin
and thick accents
one almost kiss
that was every bit as good
as a
real kiss
if not more
(and her cheeks burned fire)
tumbling home
sore feet
one blister
and some slightly
smeared black eye shadow
groggy and inspired
scrappy and awake
her muse
as if on cue
appeared again.
if i could climb into your imagination
and set up shop
for awhile
i think i may be cured
from all the monsters
and skeletons
and demons
and snakes
that haunt me late at night.
if i could bottle up your love
and drink it like wine
i believe i would be drunk on
all the secrets of the divine
and each day would be
like a poem
and every meal would be like
a work of art.
if i could embody your strength
i think i would abandon anything
that was not pleasure oriented
and not need a morning happy pill
to get through me through the day
and i would trade in my hang-ups
for white go go boots
and dance naked among all the warriors
that danced before me
who followed their own rules
and mapped out their own life
fearlessly much to their
peers chagrin.
i think if i could
wrap my arms
around your heart
and imitate its pulse
and understand its rhythm
all the gods and all the goddesses
would bow down to you
in gratitude
and together
we would
make this place
a little bit better
already.
the first time he came
he came awkwardly as innocence.
his hands were deep in his cord pockets
and he muttered something about wanting
to read her poems and how he likes to write too.
his voice was rehearsed and endearing.
the second time he came
he came as a nymph and she watched
him slip into bed after bed
so she bolted her doors with keyless
locks
and boarded up her windows so he
would not get even get a glimpse of her.
the third time he came
he came as sorrow.
it was raining hard and
there were not enough buckets
to catch all his tears and it
was a good thing she was a strong swimmer
for his misery nearly drowned the both of them
that night.
the fourth time he came
she almost did not recognize him.
his skin was covered in a language
she did not speak
and eyes had turned into
india ink.
he said he went by poison now and she
folded her arms over her bare breasts
to hide her heart and was relieved when
his plane flew over her head.
the fifth time he came
he came as her reflection
but she thought he was a muse.
she danced for him in black lacey get-ups
and strung poetry around his chest.
they ate veggie burgers and grape flavored beer
and no matter how much she ate
or danced or kissed
she could not get full.
until she was.
and then she felt empty.
