I live my life through the words I write
Listen to her whispers.
They come from deep within
telling you what you already know,
reminding you of what you need
reminding you of what you’re meant to do
and nudging you forwards,
towards them.
Listen to her whispers
follow them
before they become screams.
If I could stay
here, wrapped tight in cotton and down,
I would feel safe, protected,
from everyone
including myself.
Even if
I must sit here for hours
waiting for my mind to find stable ground
and step off the race track,
I will wait
as long as it takes.
If I do not wait for myself,
what I lose
is me.
Stay at home with your family.
Light a candle, bundle a blanket.
Travel only if you must.
Slow down, relax, take a breath.
Turn down the volume to find quiet.
Remember,
the world may be hard
but it’s also soft, and gentle.
Sometimes
I dream in memories
of you, and me,
and the toxicity surrounding us.
I dream
of my naivete,
the youthful, innocent, optimism I held
even for you.
I dream
of what I chose to see
and lived for.
I dream in memories
because sometimes
they hurt less than reality.
Short-lived recognition,
if you can call it that,
of believing I know you from somewhere
and hoping
you recognize me too.
But just in case you don’t
I’ll dart my eyes away
before we know for sure.
Everyone has rough days
days they wish no one would ever see
and maybe
it works out that you don’t see those days
for them
but they see those days
for you.
You cannot see a person
for brief moments of time
and believe you know everything about them.
If I can embody
myself
what I have created for her,
maybe
I can reclaim the connection
to her
I feel, in fear, I have lost.
All I can do
is listen to my body
listen to her screams and shouts
her whimpers and protests
her laughter and joy
her inhales and exhales.
If I listen
she will tell me what I need to know.
It tastes good in the moment
a perfect fit into all the right receptors
to provide comfort,
and love.
More must be better than a little
so indulge,
and comfort it will continue,
until it’s gone.
When you’re left, at the end,
feeling unlovable,
love yourself the hardest, then.
Dawning Words 