Whoyouneed

I’m not writing
what you see,
this shell with ink,
it isn’t me

it’s my stand-in,
Whoyouneed,
while the real me’s wounds
humbly bleed

-image via Pinterest

Advertisements

Emerging

frightened, counting every moment between breaths
aching to share all the details, even the why
the river of words gone dry
expectations dying a thousand deaths

yet, resolve trudges on, pressing past the verge
proving they can’t be numbered, not yet
the precipice must be met
truth ready to emerge

no more thread to needle to skin
no need to stuff it in
no more charlatan smile
real, stay a while

-image via Pixabay

My Child

my child,
here you are

some will tell you your whole life is ahead of you,
they’ll draw you a map and tell you how to best reach that life,
and that may very well help lead you to some kind of fulfillment

but I won’t say those things to you –
your whole life is right now,
it’s in every moment you grasp with both hands and hold close,
it’s in every interaction,
every thought, both light and dark,
in every turbulent feeling

I won’t say those things to you,
because I’ve been gifted with all the best moments,
with witnessing you grow,
and watching you blossom,
while I grasped those moments to forever hold them close

I won’t say those things to you,
my child –
I see you grasping moments,
and I trust in YOU

I know you’ll find your own way

-image via Pixabay

Confession

please forgive me,
for I have sinned,
it’s been so long
since my last confession

on humble knees,
I poured out my heart,
but only left
with more questions

the penance you gave
brought me no absolution,
I counted and prayed,
slid the beads trough my fingers

yet the weight of it all
just felt much heavier,
each step so wobbly,
with a guilt that still lingers

what do you want from me?
haven’t I paid?

I walk with compassion,
on this path that you paved

I give of my core,
hope for each soul I encounter,
and my heart is so open,
it often gets crushed

and why, oh why,
does it seem
that my own voice
is always hushed?

can you hear me?
do you care?

Oh, God
what if the one not listening,
is the me who’s too scared?

-art by Lita Cabellut via Pinterest

She Is

she is the yes girl
the cleans up the mess girl
the yearns for your caress girl
messy on the inside

she is the aim to please you girl
the helps you when you’re blue girl
the won’t quit till she’s through girl
screaming on the inside

she is the peace keeping girl
the up when you’re sleeping girl
the mind always leaping girl
exhausted on the inside

she is the wants a hug girl
the needs you like a drug girl
the soul full of love girl
desperate on the inside

she is the wants to feel like yours girl
the heart for you pours girl
the wants to give you more girl
trying on the inside

-image via Pinterest

Growing Up

when I was younger,
I aspired to be someone,
to become something,
when I grew up

but being that someone
meant listening to others’
ideas of how that someone
should look or feel

becoming that something
meant striving to attain things,
to find some measure of
socially acceptable happiness
that was outside myself,
on display

when I was younger,
I aspired to be someone,
to become something

when I grew up,
I realized I aspired
to be the same someone
I was when I was younger,
the same something
that had always been in my heart

I’ve grown,
but I aspire to never grow up

-image via Pixabay

Place

life has lead me through experience
to thought,
and thought to action,
through action to trial and error,
on a path back through words,
to love,
and creation

it’s been the most amazing,
eye-opening, and soul-baring ride

and this life keeps leading me back to words,
to love,
and a call to action –
a call to being

but, oddly enough,
that call to being is, at times,
at odds with words,
with time itself

and I can’t quite find my place to be

-image via Pinterest