it may seem
overdone
to write about love

but once you have it
it is impossible
not to want to share.

love is a cookie sample
at a grocery store
unexpected and surprisingly delicious.

love is a street dog
fed better than its owner
scruffy and fearless and full of hope.

love is what you thought you lost
but like a lucky penny
tends to appear on its own.

slowly
surely
quickly

i am falling
but it is the most glorious fall
in my life

and when i hit the ground
the asphalt will taste just as sweet
as the descent.

it may be overdone to write about love
but i couldn't care less today.
you are worth all my words.

Lately
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Unfamiliar.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.

Am I a strong woman?
if I weep every night
and sleep into the afternoon
because I can never seem
to get enough rest.

Am I a strong woman?
if I'm constantly
absorbing the traits of others
consuming myself
with who I am not.

Am I a strong woman?
if I don't know myself
as well as I should,
and more often feel lost
than found.

Am I the woman
that would make my mother proud
after she's spent half of her life
teaching me
and modeling
the one that I should be.

Am I a strong woman?
if I can't stand to be
alone with myself
with my thoughts
and let my insecurities win.

Am I a strong,
independent woman,
if I have to question it at all?