Burst
Stutter
Stop.

My heart is always on the go
I’ve often tried to slow it down
Or even catch up with it
But I’ve yet to make that happen

After emerging from the shower
She looks in the mirror and states:
“I still have lipstick on.”
And the memories of last night flood in
The dancing, the joy, the laughter.
And for the first time in a while
The sense of belonging – finally.

Acceptance and I
are embroiled
in a bitter battle.

"It feels as if I am holding
an ocean in my chest.
 

And then you said

My sweet slumber has seduced my senses.
The silence is a stolen spring day.
 

I’m not the girl who looks like she stepped out of a magazine. I’m not tan, my hair isn’t long and blonde, my teeth aren’t sparkling white, and I’m not what you would consider “skinny.”

How many times have I dreamed of a Daddy?
A man with a plan, a love of his family,
A man who would care; a father who’s there,
Who would guide me and love me, maybe even hug me
Who’d share his drink, teach me to think

You do not have to be good.

Keep that in mind when you’re out in the world.

You do not have to do what the world says
or follow rules that are archaic and foreign.

I never thought smiles could aggravate a soulful spirit.

Undefined feelings
Uncharted Territory
Discovering what to define.

I put one hand on my chest and the other on my stomach and take a deep breath
Inhale through nose
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Exhale through mouth

a vegetarian wolf does not have many friends in the forest. 
but the vast earth provides such a vibrant vessel of energy 

the moon does not smell like cheese.
and there never was a fuckin cow that jumped over it.
but there was a man who lived in there and smiled until he realized the nursey rhyme was a crock of shit.

Sometimes
I feel like I could burst out of my whole skin
Pieces of me scattering everywhere
My heart dropping through the floor

I tried to tell you that I love you
I thought you heard me, but I wasn’t sure
So I waited
And waited
And waited

Time and space. Light and dark. This or that. Either/or. 

Men. Women. 

Boy. Girl. 

Us. 

Them. 

The idea of being a feminist is not new to me.
I was destined to be one, or perhaps that was the most
shocking thing I could have become.
Having grown up in the South where everything was all
etiquette and lady like. Where my father lorded over my mom
as if she were property, an indentured servant of sorts,
destined to do his dirty, his emotional work,
his housework,
his all work.

It’s always the reins that put me off. That direct link to slavery.
A master designing a halter especially for his slave. Adjustable.

I was certain I’d never see him again. We had moved to different states. Remnants of him remained in my life; an autographed birthday present, spirit-wear from not-my-college, low self-esteem, anxiety.

There will come a time when,
with great despair
and hope,
you will kneel and beg forgiveness.