I remember my Father denying
the sense of long haired men
claiming being born a man was set
At that age  I simply admired his strong words
as though he could  thumb score the world
So amazed  I left the ladybird book on the bus
He was surprised, but  not angry
gestures of tolerance went a long way.
After all a few years  early
he berated a Sunday  newsagent for
their archaic  sales  law on that holy day.
Being a daughter in retrospect had its advantages
a  strong  Father who could  navigate  the  rivers
seeing beyond present truth

even the wind chases down her cause,
sequestering at her leisure
Joanne seeks memories
beyond her highgate bedsit
she dreams of tenderness
but could never quite divulge
where it's journey ended
She thought the breeze could carry her defences
Only now, she concedes.

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

My fears are simple...
Not shrewd enough or dextrous
My love divine, yes majestic
My purity maintains as my objective
My faith steady in my beliefs
Striving to be worthy at his throne
Virtuous and righteous I will become
My scars swept away with justice and unity
Victory through Him who has created me
Devotion and warmth to those in need
Repenting of my sin in prayer
Kneeling down with compassion and hunger

Cracking under pressure
Relapsing
Losing touch with reality
losing her
getting caught
losing control
being replaced
not being good enough
disappointing the people I love
not being accepted
rejection
Being forgotten
Growing old
Hurting the people I love
Breaking down
Going back
Being trapped *but I'm already trapped?

losing control of my own body
going crazy
being not good enough
hurting someone else
loneliness
dying in my sleep
that my parents actually hate me
going to hell
not living up to my own expectations
serving the wrong religion
not getting into college
losing parts of myself
becoming numb

I am terrified of going back to how that pain wouldn't leave me two years ago because I have enough burdens left over to carry, and I don't deal with agony very well.

I am terrified of going back to how that numbness wouldn't leave me last year because it's worse even than anguish to be unable to feel, unconvinced you are still alive.

I am terrified of going back to how that happiness wouldn't leave me just over two years ago because as soon as you get up high, the further you have to fall.