teenage mother

I was born to the tired arms of teenage mother 

her red hair a shelter over amniotic-soaked curls

we two met in dream- years long before my conception

I a wish a want a dream a hope

mama, seventeen, tired, met me with joy-tinged regret

a vessel of sorrow she had ever been and was yet still 

this not to change in birth, in life, not even in her death

twenty-two years later with mind awry and heart adrift

mama and I, loved and abandoned by cruel hands of man

selfish to want us, to have us! somehow refusing to keep us

long have I been a daydream, a wish, to those around me

full of potential and hope for their futures, their pride, their wants

when ever have I only been me

me! with my towering anger, lording over the gardens of my sorrows

me! me! with conflict!

me! with curiosity!

long have I only and ever been me in my wealth of humanity!

imperfect child, always, from moment of conception 

born not to be perfect but to be loved

born not to be revered but to live!

father, I did not know in my nights of grief and sorrow 

now dreams of my becoming

becoming beautiful! becoming accomplished! becoming a vision to behold!

dreams of my becoming a daughter he may herald with pride 

all this! having met me a few times a year!

my daughter, he calls me in affection, princessa

yet would I know him, a stranger, in a dark room? 

become for him! mold into that strange dream he holds you in!

then might you know him, as he knows you!

as I continue in the way I have only ever been, human girl of grief and wrath

the man I grew beside to call dad, who held my hair in illness and hand in my youth

tells his sons he does not care about me

born to teenage mother, scarred and torn apart by hands of man, 

I have only ever been a girl of sorrow and joy

they dream of my becoming 

loving what they want me to be

rather ever than who I am 

they will assure me, always assure me, dad does not mean it

and father loves you still

have I ever spoken a word as they do? men, in all their selfish glory

their hearts will not turn to you, their eyes will not bend to yours

a dad and a father both, whom I belong to neither

my teenage mother long gone, a woman abandoned in the grave 

her gleaming golden-red hair dry upon the white casket pillows

her cold metal tomb encased in layers of concrete

dad says he does not care about me

father says the distance is my own making 

where then, does daughter go? 

when home is now a graveyard

where her mother's heart rots in the cold

don't save anything for after a waist measurement

Every boy I've ever daydreamed about

was a "twenty pounds later" maybe

she was so damn cute at 16

she being me

I wish she had said something 

and made me

one broken heart richer

Judas

 I have committed no crime to compare

yet still

my heart cries out to him

survive!

do not deny him once again!

live still, and 

speak his name with tenderness

christ forgave the hands and spear which pierced his side

how much more would he forgive thee!

I wish, in moments of clarity,

pleading with Judas to yet live, 

I could hear the same words

echoed back at me

Live! And yet utter his name with tenderness!

As the Lord does utter yours in heaven!

the secret? I hate marigolds

 A garden is a product of time

To that I say

Worms are History

And I've been split in half

As a child I was Marigolds

I am Marigolds still

Born of the seeds left behind

Year by Year a new generation

the same weeds

different weeds

the same sun

different days

Wondering

If I will ever stop needing water

What business does a Marigold have

Wondering

If it will ever become a Rose

self worth and narcissus in the lake - 2019

when I look in the mirror
I see not myself
but a woman I have long judged through the eyes of others

how is it so
that I might know what they see when they
look
upon me

I have only ever been me
and my judgments are not theirs

it matters not
because my smile is not my own
my eyes send shivers down my spine for the disconnect I gaze into

my face could be
a painted portrait of a woman lost
for the familiarity I find in her smile

I worry I have become vain
for the thrill I seek in my cheekbones
for the butterflies that take flight from my flirtatious smile

because
when the woman in the mirror
is not me
she breathes the very essence of beauty

she is
the embodiment of speech
flowering syllables over gilded pages and gilded frames

a goddess
hidden among the mortals

when
I erase my name
from the face I see
she is
everything an angel might be

only

if

I am not her

because

when she gains
a name

she is me
not
the pinnacle of divinity
not
mother nature's tender creation
not
anything
a loving
living
God could create

when
she is me
she is nothing
but a face
in the mirror

memory is a certain immortality

all my life you have been a place

an event a person a thing

you're gone now 

reborn to moments and memories 

you are where I remember you

so I choose sunlight

flower petals

warmth after a cold day

 I love you

   you live where I live

      within

          a second life

             a second death

         beside me

I remember you brought the sunset

they adorned her in yellow

her smile was nervous and fragile and proud

how has she not cut herself on her double edged sword

how has she hidden the scars so well

they pulled her hair back

it said no

slipped out of the plastic pink clips

she was beautiful

her wrists are bone

her eyes are hollow

her smile is full of tragedy

I'm not ready

please I'm not ready

Grief: Noun

 

 grief is not my mantle

 a flame that burns within

 

it is not a lifestyle a mood a circumstance a feeling

 it is every moment I have ever lived 

 

all at once

 

my hands empty

 of the thing I have lost

desperation

I've never know time by her name

Never flown and let myself drown

How could I begin to guess the seconds of sand given to us

Like stars, numberless in the heavens 

I was promised a lifetime

To God that means anything

I'm beginning to feel like forgiveness is weighing

I need to let go

Before I become someone anew

Before I drown the parts of me that need forgiving with you

 

I was promised a lifetime

Nobody knows what that means

I can't say I forgive you

So here you are

Dying

Always getting the last word

7 Years

memory is a double edged sword

I thought

I had forgotten the shape of your nose

now you're here

Hello

how dare you make me remember myself

pieces

I've shrouded my hands and face in lace and color and now I cannot see past it to the mirror

I'm a girl that changes with the seasons. Always a different person, and always the same.

There's no proper way to parse the syllables on my tongue or organize my heart into compartments.

Always the same patterns. Always the same person.

I want to bruise and bleed and tear myself to pieces but I can't I can't I can't I have to be perfect I have to be perfect

the realization that your life is all the same poem

Soft and almost smothered, the very air humming around me

Why must I always force the path of my thoughts?

Today I dipped my paintbrush In the wells beneath my eyes And painted the sky To match My father's eyes And I could not see the color because I do not know Their shade Enough to know When it stains my palette

blurry on the edges
There is a contentment in my chest and uncertainty in my throat. Desperation paces with muffled steps across my rib cage and wistfulness sighs on the bow of my heartstrings. My tongue does not move and my fingers are alight with the energy of what they will not do

cardboard

With only the illusion

Of arms and legs

Move me wherever

I haven't got knees

Lean me in corners

Forget that I'm there

Yell at me softly

Anger burn bright

I won't move no matter

How desperately I try

No longer a person

Yet I have feelings too

But what does it matter

I'm cardboard to you 

don't take me back just remember me a feeling

 there was a time when I didn't eat

when I counted the minutes between calories

fed myself on the relief of deception

I've never remembered so keenly

anything like I do those few remembered meals

the white rice still sticks in my mouth

the tang of barbecue on my tongue decision's ghost

cold peas bursting between noodle and sauce

my life's victory a caramel

a caramel I never ate

how sick am I 

that tonight I long for that hunger?

let go

 I'm still learning to breath

to take the universe within me

savor her particles

keep none of them

I'm still learning to be okay with that

filled. . . ?

what is a space without intention?

lost

found. in a million different ways

spaces between goodbye

i love you

in every bright

and quiet

place

until the stars

have joined us

and the silence 

is final

and even then 

i love you

until the  very moment

"a little further"

has become a lifetime 

stretching 

our little eternities

to forever

and beyond 

spring 2019

religion

will not be contained within letters

it will not even be contained within me

religion                                       

in itself                            

can become containment if we allow it to be                     

       I've become a hollow religion                       

seeking the sanctity of hallowed ground                

I'm becoming an empty container

thinking that what I was meant to hold will save me

               stagnant

                            remnants

                                          cling to my walls

I hoard them jealously                                                                         

and don't understand                                                     

perhaps I did once

maybe I never have

SurRouNd

when I was young
Colors had Faces
letters had genDers
And spoons
Never got along with the forks

now
Now my emotions
Have feelings too
And when my pen
spills out
numbers
they tell me their life stories

4
Is my favorite number
Because she knows what it is like
To be told who she is
And 9
Will always be my CAMpfire villain
My water bottle Is a she
And she
Does not much care for tulips or birds
My pillow
Is a diVa
Who never gets her way

Months are Never just Days
days
Are slightly more than just dates
And when I spell out their names
Their letters greet each other i n d i v i d u a l l y
Before becoming the word as a whole

So

sO
So

So who am I to say I am never Alone
When every pEtal on my bedspread
Never Fails
To welcome me home

neither are nigh

I'm pulling from within

expecting something brilliant

I've forgotten

the universe is not as inseparable from me

as I am from myself

fear is a multifaceted eye

I'm afraid of ostriches and needles and words that don't mean anything
I fear windows I can't see through
hair loss and losing my teeth

I am not afraid of death

I am afraid of fire
choking lungs scorched skin eyes stinging and watering as if they could put out the fire themselves
as if they could mean anything

I am afraid of honesty
I cannot tell a lie

I'm not afraid of goodbye

I'm scared I'll die falling
that the ground will become a childhood swing and my uncle is pushing me so far into the trees
I could swear I was flying
only flying feels a lot like suspension
like disbelief
like doubt
I'm afraid I'll die falling because when the ground welcomes me home I'll spill my regret and my guts all in the same instant

I'm afraid of falling in love
reasons listed above

I'm not afraid of germs
not anymore

I'm afraid of words that were born in another's throat and still echo in my own
words that I regret
words that I'll never hear a sorry for

I'm afraid of apologies that don't make sense

I'm not afraid of God

I'm not afraid of dying
I am afraid of seeing the faces of my brothers at my funeral
I'm not afraid of goodbyes- I'm afraid of not saying them

maybe that's why I'm still alive
maybe that's why I lied
because I'm never not afraid\
that
at least
I'll take to the grave