I can see through you,
trying to disguise yourself
and using other bodies as vessels
just to get to me
as I try to push you away.
I admire your persistence though.
I would probably do the same thing
myself.
my face tells the story
My face often gives it away;
how I’m really feeling
without a need for accompanying words.
Lately,
it tells of inner turmoil,
expectations too high for me to reach
and overflowing from my plate,
excessive concern and worry
and wishing that things were different,
that I was different.
Raised, reddened bumps
with under-eye shadows
and a new crease or two I do not recall before;
they really tell the story.
hidden from sight
Sunshine still penetrates
through the clouds, soft and dense,
though the sun remains hidden from sight.
Sometimes
you don’t have to see it
to believe it.
leave this pain behind
I want to run away, escape,
leave this pain behind
in my rearview mirror
and dust.
I have learned what it sought
to teach me,
know where I still need to grow
and even how pain can help.
I know this. I understand this.
But I want it to go away.
buried treasure
Work it out,
like a tangled, tight knot
in the back of your neck
that when your fingers land on it
after searching across skin for miles,
it’s like finding buried treasure.
Flex the fingers,
open wide the treasure box
then dig deep, down,
until you find the bottom.
I find buried treasure all over
and throughout my body,
but this large box before me
was difficult to open.
My flexed fingers digging in deep
will show me what’s inside,
for everything is treasure
if viewed with an open mind.
how the trees let go
Just look at the trees,
look at their willingness to
embrace change,
let go of what they no longer need
and try again later,
when the Earth warms again in spring.
How easily they can let go
is how I, too, need to let go.
anxiously vibrating
Too anxious to sit still
but too tired to move around
so I am here, stuck,
vibrating through my stationary body
with energy strong enough
to boil a pot of water.
in-between seasons
This too will pass all too quickly:
the warm heat of summer
enveloping me as I walk out the door,
nurturing and nourishing life to grow,
drawing us out, to the outdoors,
to allow nature to care for us.
In the distance, the trees boast a new
palette of colors,
from yellow to orange to red
and every shade between.
Dollops of paint scatter on the ground.
A beautiful reminder of change drawing near,
for change is always drawing near.
But for now, all we have is today.
Enjoy this time of in-between seasons,
the shades of seasons’ grey
along the spectrum of white to black
with no right or wrong,
just now.
Just here, now.
do what the picture shows
Funny, the irony,
in having ink etched permanently
on my skin
of the very thing
keeping us disconnected
and breaking,
a picture of the very thing
I strive to do,
but am not.
All I need to do
is look at my arm
and do
what the picture shows.
it is awake, and here
It would be all to easy to cast blame,
deflect this on to you,
say it’s your fault, you started this.
If I had not met you
this would not be happening.
Easy,
but unjustified.
No, it’s more than that.
This beast had been hibernating out of sight
for some time,
and chose to show its face
when you were there.
I knew of its existence
and shudder at my naivete
in believing it could hibernate forever.
But all that doesn’t matter now,
all that back story
and circumstances.
What matters is now,
it is awake, and here.
I either find a way to tame it,
or get eaten alive.
Dawning Words 