It was in the springtime when
I decided to do an important experiment
I had a hypothesis to test
…
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It was in the springtime when
I decided to do an important experiment
I had a hypothesis to test
…
Today I look at my hands
My tiny, small, woman’s hands
And run fingertips over the
Small callouses beginning to form
The skin beginning to dry
And crack in places
And I feel happy
For everything I can do now
All these things that younger me
Wouldn’t even dream of
November 22, 2024
In the centre of some distant stone village
She sits cross-legged in the cobblestone square…
I listen
I listen
I listen
I offer nothing
I take
I take
I take
I absorb little
I return nothing
I keep the gates closed
And must be satisfied with not drowning myself
November 19, 2024
Sharp, shallow adventures
Just below the exterior
Still the vibrations
Before they melt the wall
I’ll quiet this interior…
How many poems
Celebrating are to come
In days that remain
Hoping to connect
Just hearing those around me
I remain silent
Maybe the destination
Won’t be acceptance after all
Maybe it won’t be calm
Won’t be peace
Won’t be love…
Stormy skies pound down onto dark shorelines
Anger whips branches and brambles to and fro
Thunder and lighting tear the sky into pieces
Echoing a desperate rage
Found in any lifetime of faulty connections
Dark clouds oppressive with no end in sight
Mix with a melancholy
Only the perpetually lonely can understand…
Finally, a few
Just a few
So little
But enough to find the shame
No matter how many poems
No matter how many tears
No matter how much catharsis
I’m still me
Exactly as I feared the most
November 15, 2024
I suppress the surges, even when I don’t mean to.
They swell, then subside.
I swallow and swallow and swallow them. I push them so far down, I think they must be gone.
Empty in the outer layers, but, underneath, tiny vibrations, too far away to register with a label, yet present enough to remind me of my worth.