Tied Up

watching_the_world_burn_down_by_1honey1-d34crnu

Lately my limbs have new knots

Because Im tied up in your trees

With branches that tangle and twist

 From ankle to wrist.

And the song birds sleep in the palm of my hands…

Their song like a prayer

You cannot understand them, if you don’t care to listen

There are people you meet who can level you with a simple look,

They make you believe in the fantasy from your favorite childhood book,

He’s been brought to life.

He’s got your soul in his teeth …

When you see him build a bomb shelter because

The Heat Signature between the two of you will cause the world to

Incinerate Underneath

Spirit Guide

freedom

Emboldened by belief in forgiveness and peace

I have assembled all the ages I have ever been into this one woman before you.

I’m a wanderer. I have always lost track of time, and thought. I would give my last dime to a beggar on the street with a smile, wishing him well… no care for things I haven’t got.

No time to stop and think when the waters are restless inside of me. When even a flash of light can send me running through our streets at night.

Some call me crazy. Some call me whore.

Their words can rise from the dirt where I stand, pulling at me, trying to plant my feet in the ground, pull my poetry down without a sound.

I am indignant. I am an artist. My syllables pulled from my core do not speak the language of limits… they take my spirit with them… they endure.

I will outlive most of my critics. Its not just an accusation, its a simple observation.

I live inside of love. Unfurled on the floor you will find my words ringing in your ears-

Like a mirror reflects what is shown, I am a light that shines to the bone.

I am refracted by cruelty, but never reduced.

My poetry cuts in, my words a knife, it carves, and you’re seduced.

I am the butterfly whose wings wrap like words around the feet of my foe- intent not to follow- but to lead where you go.

An unbearable lightness of being will break the heart of the still breathing child- but I am their champion. My words cry out for their freedom.

A garden rich in its soil, will feed them. Their bellies full with the dreams they have eaten. I will but guide them with my soft colored wings..

 

Shame

A thousand lies fell from my lips before I was old enough to vote.

I lied about you to my friends, I lied to my friends about you. I lied about my age. I treated the world like my stage.. and I pretended that nobody noticed the cracks in my sidewalk.

It was to cover the thing I was so shamed by- the things, the many of them that I did not like to look at.

Growing up and forever being fat.

That my mother really doesn’t like me. That my mother really didn’t want me. That her words offered little comfort, that the sound of her raised voice makes grown men contort.

That she was so very hard.

I was so soft bellied, soft hearted, big hearted. Exposed nerves and senses of justice. No experience in your real world.

Just a few bewildering experiences with little boys, and I mean stupid boys, and boys who wore their pants too big around their hips, boys who stared at my tits and licked their fish lips.