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

sighing.

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.

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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
fumblings

________________________________________

April 15th

This place

has taken away my 

soft edges

The things I loved

most

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.


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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!