I am the peace
the gentle wave of silent days
after winds have worn me away
for the tired words from tired women
who will run to their graves
staring in the mirror
I cast you out!
like a spell
stolen from an angel
when God suggested her shine
did not shine as bright
as all the other stars at night
and I thank her for her wings
without contemplating the colour
-or how far they will take me..
When my body is gone
they won’t remember the lines
Just the way my smile
made the moon cry
-let it go
I walk a mile to the nearest garden
and wonder how anything could be so green
without a sky
or a watering can
or a sun
to polish the leaves
-how is it that you breathe?
There is an angel who haunts my dreams
and the edges of my eyes when I’m awake
lingering on the outside
and in-between my breasts
feeling every beat
of this heart against my chest
Girl talk is not about what we say to other girls
It is about what we say to ourselves
It is what happens when we see mostly mirrors
and stitch words into our skin
as though we were taught
right from the beginning
to wear the whispers of other people
On my way to meditation class I felt the urge to drive into a tree. On the way home I just wanted to drive.
Some days are like that. It’s like experiencing blindness with too much visual stimulation. Walking around as the ultimate contradiction.
Meditate. Strip it all away. Peel back all the pieces you thought really mattered and stop to feel the ground beneath your feet. Don’t just know that it’s there like some concept you can analyse.
At least once a day, find the truth behind all the ideas.
At least once a day, find some time to find you.
Quitting isn’t easy. Staying isn’t easy either.
One will make you happier tomorrow.