Thursday, April 24, 2014

Poetry Month 4

April 24th

I reached the end of 
too many ropes that day. 
I didn't mean it like that - 
I promise - 
but once the realization
came into my bed
I strung it between my fingers
I could no longer touch you
without it rubbing against your skin
and there was only time then
until it all came loose and I ran 
out of rope to tie me to our dreams. 

Now all the space I 
rushed to fill with tenderness
even as I retreated
stands hollow
and I slowly breathe into it
my little lungs giving 
new meaning
to emptiness that is so full
of itself.


April 22nd 

I broke something
and so much beauty came
rushing from it.

I stand bewildered.

Even if I wanted to go back
to look for the pieces
hoping to meet you on the road

I know better than
to interrupt this sacred light
that's come into these little lives of ours
with my human


April 15th

This place
has taken away my 
soft edges
The things I loved
about my sweet womanhood.
and now all these
little things
are snagging on my personality.
There are burrs 
and spider bites
to pull out of this skin
Things that have crept 
into my bed.

Now absolutes stand
boulders blocking a path
towards the place between
all of our bodies.

It's a time
to lie down in the swollen spring river of my life
and let mountain water flush my skin.

I am made of water,
but I'm becoming a mountain here.

Help fund my artistic journey through Northern Ireland where I will be researching and finishing my book, working title Dear Bird for 3-4 months. Learn more about my campaign and donate here. Thank you!

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