Feeling It All

in the darkness, spirals called
winding wells and staircases tall
regret and worry, fashioned lenses
costumes and masks, ill-fitting pretenses

naked and bare, exposed to the core
questions unanswered, left wanting more
measures and comparisons, not quite enough
sometimes the darkness has been pretty tough

but the light is brighter than ever before
no fear of darkness, not any more
embracing it all, the darkness and light
the in-between, the fights and flights

I feel it all like never before
this me I was meant to be, open and whole

-image is mine


Weapon of Choice

I am alive,
so awakened by the magic in my life I chose to create,
I’m bursting at my seams to explore,
but this life’s constraints allow only so much exploration

I’m afraid if I don’t explore these parts of me,
I’ll explode

and if I do get the opportunity to explore them,
I may also explode

so, here I am,
a caged bird,
pulling out my own feathers to keep my mind occupied

ravenous for something food can’t satisfy,
though I sometimes try

this extra weight my battle scar,
the tangible evidence of my fight against myself,
and not taking care of myself my weapon of choice

-image via Tumblr

Don’t See Me

opportunity doesn’t knock, it slithers,
it wriggles and burrows with its chattering teeth,  
until it tunnels down, down, down,
clawing and eating away at my insides –
and I feed it

I nourish it with eyes that see, but pretend not to,
with haunting excuses hovering in wait, 
gathering to lock fingers and create a wall no human could possibly scale 

they hide my most precious secret

knees to chest, arms wrapped tightly around, 
and eyes unable to meet yours – 

don’t see me

I am not what you think
(I am not what I wish I was)

-image via Pinterest


some would look at me through 
eyes clouded with sadness and sorrow,
ones filled with fear, really

some would say I’m made 
of wrinkles and lines,
no longer black and white,
just a ghost of gray,
a shadow of who I once was,
awaiting the day when I whisper
my last breath

yes, I see the wrinkles and the lines,
but I see a roadmap,
a face weathered by experience,
a life chartered amidst joy and sorrow,
compassion and pain,
heartache and bliss,
sunshine and thunderstorm

I see a body that no longer works 
as it used to, and never will,
but I see legs that climbed mountains,
arms that hugged until they could not,
hands that built and tore down
and built again,
and a heart that beat so loudly,
I had to share its overflow 
with others

I see a worn woman,
but it’s not through saddened eyes
that I look

for, I fear not,
because I see in these wrinkles and lines
and in this tired body,
all the places I have been,
the people I have touched,
and those who will remain
a part of me, 
forever a key in my legend

I see hope and love, 
more alive than it’s ever been

and that will long outlast 
this roadmap

-image via Women’s New Network

Storm’s Eye

oh, divine, insidious pull
help me please, my soul is full

my shallow roots are tattered and splintered
my tired heart has been battered and wintered

your cradled strings strangely unbind me
and your wistful cloud holds some mystical key

I’ve try to stay grounded, but the din is too heady
I’m already rising, I think I’m ready

into storm’s eye, allow me to fly
will it unwind me?
I’m willing to try

do I get to return?
or should I say goodbye?

*written as part of Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge 104


many, many years ago,
my heart lead me away,
to become

out in the world, alone,
I wanted make something of myself,
so I became

I became, became,
for that’s what adults should do,
mothers should do,
career women, wives, friends, daughters,
families, neighbors, consumers,
should do

Except, my heart, mind, and spirit 
were not at peace

they were lumps in my throat,
sleepless nights, migraines,
stuffed tears and boxed emotions,
unspoken words, and an endless dialogue
in my head no living thing
should be subject to

my spirit had the courage 
to finally ask my heart,
‘who was I before the ‘shoulds’, 
before I started to become?
what is MY truth?
who am I that has nothing to do 
with the people I love,
or the work that I do?’

and my heart answered 
with only one word,

so I am unbecoming,
I am stripping,
peeling and shedding,
layers upon layers
of ‘shoulds’ and ‘outta’s’,
getting lost in order to be,
to come

to become,

my mind, heart, and spirit have met, 
and are finding unity,
in me

and I will not abandon,
or betray myself,
ever again

-image via Pixabay