Try to be quiet.
Your insecurities are
starting to show, love.
Go ahead, gossip.
Tell your truth through the crack in
your heart. I don’t mind.
My childhood was spent in a house in the mountains,
Second exit to the right and straight up the winding, dirt road.
I can still smell the poppies and pine trees.
I can still see the glimmers of mica catching the sun in the flower beds.
I would hug the trees as if they were my friends and drink the air as if it were my favorite tea.
It was an adventure.
I sometimes wonder if my grandfather’s laugh still permeates the halls,
and if the smell of a thousand Christmas mornings emanate from its walls.
I never got to say goodbye.
I suppose saying goodbye would mean to go away and forget,
and I can never forget.
I am a thief.
I have spent my life stealing from the women around me and from the women who came before me
I have stolen pieces of their souls
I have patched it over my own holes and filled myself with new strength
I have allowed these women to raise me higher
They are my heroes
They are my namesakes
Their very spirit intertwines with mine and I am me because of it.
By sheer happenstance,
You were born American.
Get over yourself.
I have finally finished my month long poetry series! (I even did a bonus poem for the 31st.)
I hope that you have enjoyed this series. The last two weeks of poems were difficult to complete, but I’m glad that I pushed forward. I love starting my year immersed in writing my poetry. It forces me to take time and reflect. January was definitely a tumultuous month for me, so I’m glad that I took time to write.
I look forward to taking a little more time with my poetry, without that looming, daily deadline, and playing more with form. I’ve been obsessed with haiku this past month, and I plan to expand more on that.
Write more soon,
Our apps and profile pictures keep us too busy to remember our own mortality.
Scrolling and scrolling.
Reposts and tags.
We forget the arbitrary frivolity of it all.
We are all scrambling and winding to the same fate.
No amount of likes will save us.
Our walls and feeds will all end the same.
We will all breathe a final breath, and our hearts will all beat a final beat.