Trees

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I am the wild wind

in a world where trees sprout out of the ground

just to breathe me in

Ten kilometres in the air

they will grow

and they will fall

with the ebbing and flowing

of these lungs beneath my chest

~

This world of trees was made for me

and when the mountains rise up

to impede my way

I will bounce off the various surfaces

sometimes smooth

sometimes rough

~

But every time

I will find my way through the cracks

the crevices

and I will find myself on the other side of that mountain

greeting these trees

that sprouted just for me

Princess

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My butterfly blue dress

turns me into a princess

in a world where it’s better to be the bad girl

Where black eyes and a foul grin

deserve attention

receive admiration

The mysterious tempting woman with a dark side

A vision of struggle

how clearly you have suffered

~

Well

I have many sides

both the Sun and Moon have seen

I have scars

I’m a complicated scribble

made with the precision of a first graders hand

My feet have callouses

from years of walking through

the rocks of expectation you laid before my feet

~

So today I will wear a butterfly blue dress

and plump pink lip gloss

My hair will be pulled back to reveal

eyes that have escaped the thick shadow

And I’ll feel like a princess

with today’s promise bowing before my feet

Dear Friend

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You stand there

 I can see you waiting

You wish for me to say that I do not see

the glossy eyes and sunken cheeks

Years of pressure keeping you there

Sinking into the silk sheets

Your perfect bed of despair

~

I wish that I could stay

and melt the past away

but my fire cannot catch

that which does not exist

There is no wicker for this flame

no fuel to turn your demons to ash

~

Wade into the water of your tears

Let the waves toss you about

Be done with the days

For they were done with you long ago

Just some distant land you didn’t know you had sold

~

Dry yourself with your hands

but know that it will take a while

So just lie in the sand and leave a print

worthy of my shore

When the News comes on

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When the News comes on

and they stare with bunny rabbit eyes

at the world falling apart

I dare them to run

right into the fire

~

Have they not entered already?

Have they not felt the burn-

-the melting of skin under shallow words of woe?

When they say that word

the one starting with a ‘T’

I sigh and make myself a cup of Tea

and I wade into the morning sun

soaking up the unburdened air 

~

A morning  without words to pave the way

One that does not promise a woeful day

 

 

The Mindful Eye

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I saw the golden light

creep along the leaves

and I cried because it was so much bigger than beautiful

so much more than the prison of a word

~

And I cried for those who can not see it

for those who will never know

the way the light dances in different directions

a symphony that will never be seen again

~

how sad for them to have missed this

how wonderful for me to have seen

The Day

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I sat upon a day

and the Dawn flinched at my weight

“How heavy you are my dear” it whispered

“Lay your burden onto me”

~

And so I breathed a sigh of relief

and gave birth to a terrible storm

The clouds circled, catching my cries

like a desperate child, seeking sustenance

~

And when it was finally over

my eyes skipped around wildly

Expecting to find the damage

and stumbling upon a rainbow

 

 

An Ode to Insecurity

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Who am I

if I am no longer dominated

by the notion that I must fix god’s genetic mistake?

~

Who am I without the mission to mould me

into that which I would be proud to have made?

~

Who am I without the journey to unfold me?

To see the past as a living anguish that has been triumphed over

by that future woman

standing on her pedestal of contentment and admiration