My name is a name unspoken
Laying quiet and dry on my lips
Only my tears to wet them
Only my hand to brush them away
Only a memory in these sad, empty hips.

My heart holds a prayer unspoken
Unrecorded, in need of a voice
Only this anguish to fuel it
Only these thoughts sitting still
Only this gnawing yet motionless choice.

Immovable ocean within me!
Rise up at my cogent command!
My sails are open
And ready for flight
No winds to fill them
No storms to fight
But only the storm within me.

Only this storm within.

This isn't the time for a blueprint,
there's no time for a sketch,
a rough draft,
a note,
pushing off into waters untraveled,
my soul is my sail,
my body my boat.

The only map that I need is my thumbprint,
the only compass I need is my heart,
no one said this journey was simple,
I learn nothing from just sitting still,
I must start.

So I glide on the wings of my eternal voice,
and I soar knowing well I may fail,
but I don't need any net to catch me,
I have seen both sides of the shadowy veil...

And I will greet this world with dust on my feet,
and I will sing at the top of my voice,
nothing can stop me from finding myself,
nothing can save me
this God-given choice.

Sitting between two worlds,
Like a bird on a telephone wire,
surveying the foreign landscape below.
Nothing looks the same,
And it all started when she woke
and turned over,
wrapped in a cocoon of sheets.

He was gone and her fingers
told stories of when he was gone...
and a feeling like being weighed down
by the clothes on her back
because they are drenched in water.

She smells his musk
on her cold pilllow,
But he is gone,
And so everything is worse.
A strangeness within her,
Leaving her organs restless
and hands twitching for an outlet,
that doesn’ t exist.

All alone she has no flowing words.
All alone she is a dried up,
lonesome,
fearful,
fool.
Too few words to change the world
and far too many fragments to glue back
into something recognizable.

He is gone.
Left her all alone.
Between two worlds.

Got a pit in my stomach
The size of a mustard seed
And heavy as a mountain
But something tells me
It’s all part of finding myself.

Can’t get my footing on this
Molehill I’m climbing
And the rain makes you
Look like a crater in the earth,
From way up here.

Is there something missing,
Or is it only displaced?

My heart sits here,
Gaping and exposed
Like a nest in a tree
Which has released it’s leaves to the wind
And it’s cold here.

But something tells me it’s all part of finding myself.

Secret mothers everywhere
On a guerilla mission
to claim their inner goddess
and stake the heart
of every man
to bring balance
to the earth.

Secret mothers need no words
with nothing but a look
recreating the womb
for your solace
let the walls fall
for no one to
pick up again.

Secret mothers everywhere
walking tall and
falling down
and getting up
and dancing for the gift
of their womanhood
with stretched out stomachs
like gunny sacks
full of breath once;

Empty now, but not of promise,
she perpetuates her cycles
like the moon
urging you silently
to cry and drop
the pointless boundaries
you create around
your heart
even though
it feels impossible.