more than self care

I take at least a dozen breaths,
formulate in my mind what I want to say
typing it out,
erasing, and typing it out again.
This is a safe space.

I ask the question.
How do you know when
you need more than just self care?

Reactions range from widened eyes,
to nodding heads and note-taking,
but him; he offers empathy.
We hardly ever need an engine replacement;
maybe it’s just an oil change or a tire rotation that we need.

Muted on the microphone,
I tremble and quiver in my thick wool sweater
as a tear slides off my cheek
and lands on the keyboard.

The sky dances and screams

The sky dances and screams
with lightning and thunder,
muffled by the houses and trees
I can only make out bits and pieces,
not her whole story.

Feel her anguish,
admire her vulnerability,
wait until she has said all she needs to say.

Show your own vulnerability,
come out from behind your protective walls
to meet her,
listen to her, comfort her.

I have been where you are
and I am here for you.
Scream, cry, punch,
let it all out.
I will still be here
when you start to feel better
and the storm begins to pass.

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.