A poem for November 3.
Orange and bright,
morning light,
captivate me.
Warm and cool,
November breeze,
infatuate me.
90s tunes,
make me sing and laugh,
energize me.
Morning sun,
You’re always there,
you never fail me.
Breathe life.
It’s okay to smile.
It’s okay to live.
Don’t be afraid.
Be alive.
Happiness
Happiness is bright and colorful. It’s the morning sun shining through my windshield. It’s the orange and pinks in the early sky. It’s the cool autumn air sneaking in the window. It’s the blue and purple mountains watching over me. Happiness is smiling. Singing. Laughing. Happiness is here, it’s all around me. And I’m trying to accept it.
It’s not me…
Today the world is gray
The rain’s against my cheeks
Never have I felt so betrayed
For being naive and sweet
I’m friendless in a small city
Quite alone in the crowd
No friends to name at all
And husband turns away
What’s wrong with me, I’d ask
If I wasn’t highly trained to know
It’s not me…. it’s not me.
Brighter & Lighter
Practice, nourish, sooth
your soul, your belly
Heal through foods
and with your breath
Take care and feel lighter,
watch everything grow brighter
be light, like vegetables
and your mind will be at peace
Identity
From a shell, a seed will grow
From a girl, a woman matures
From the darkness, peeks a leaf
From the pain, she endures
And through that pain and through it all—
she’s stronger now and beautiful
And with the knowledge she will see
To love herself and let things be
Standing tall, she might wear black
Standing proud, her face is stone
Scars she bears, like jewelry
Standing still, but not alone
Be yourself, and listen well
Bring yourself—past all that hell
Be yourself, and you shall see
Nothing compromises me
Tattered, shattered and torn
Torn from a landscape
torn from a facescape
Torn from identity
tattered and frayed
Searching and searching
without wanting to see
searching and searching
can’t find me
You and him, and this and that
tell me, tell me
tell me flat
Look to the distance
what do I see?
squinting in the wind
trying to find me
Bullied
You’re mad and I’m scared. Scared of upsetting and angering you even more. Scared to show my face.
I spent my childhood hiding. It’s become my habit.
You shouldn’t equate to my old man. But right now you do.
So fucking stop.
July 21
I can’t stand the silence
But I can’t stand to speak
I can’t hear your thoughts
What is it you seek?
You’re hurting my soul
So I turn away
I can’t take this
day after day
Why are you so angry?
Why don’t we speak?
I feel like you hate me
and like I’ve disappointed you
Friendship shouldn’t be so fucking hard.
