No one likes me.
(razor blade, razor blade)
Everybody hates me.
(razor blade, razor blade)
At 30, I feel more like 15.
(razor blade, razor blade)
I should dye my hair black.
(razor blade, razor blade)
And cut it into weird angles.
(razor blade, razor blade)
But I don't have enough black clothing.
(razor blade, razor blade)
And I go to church.
(razor blade, razor blade)
I don't know how to put on eye liner.
(razor blade, razor blade)
And I listen to country music.
(razor blade, razor blade)
Wow.
(razor blade, razor blade)
I even **** at emo.

I was given a name the day I was born
Later, I was given another.
Later still, I married and took another name.
Later, I took back the second.

What is a name? Should we not just choose our own?
If so, I shall call myself "Disappointment" and be done with the matter.

This is the reality I have created for myself
This is the emptiness I allow myself to feel
This is the shell that hosts passing, hollow emotions.

These are the hands that are useless in this world
These are the feet that will never truly dance
These are lungs that have ceased to catch breath for the beauty of the world

I go. I go. I keep going.
There is not much left but to go.
Numb, I move forward, but no distance passes beneath my feet.

I want something more, something better
The memory of true feeling haunts me
But it is all beyond my reach.

And the voice tells me to just deal with it.

There are days when I wish I had never met you
When I wish the August heat hadn't dulled me to your charm
When I wish the sun hadn't shown me how blue eyes could be

There are days when I wish locust hadn't been shivering in the trees
When I wish the river hadn't been rushing behind you
When I wish I hadn't learned you were everything I had ever dreamed of loving

There are days when I wish I hadn't noticed the tan of your arms
When I wish I had never heard the sweet lilt of your voice
When I wish I had never heard the stir of your laughter in the shade

There are days when I wish I had never taken that job
When I wish I had never let you into my life
When I wish I had never let you into my heart

But then, there are days, that I thank God for His forethought of bring you into my world.

This is one of those days.

Our souls speak to one another in the darkness of night
When words go unsaid in the normal tones of uttered language
Carried on prayer to those secret places that hide within us
Carried on the soft breeze of an early summer night to the indwelling of our spirits

I wonder where you hide in your dreams
What rooms you wander in the solitude of that evanescent world
If I can dance in my dreams
Surly you can find me in yours
Surly you can take my hand and dance with me there

Do you find me as I find you
With lips that await kissing
With skin that awaits touching

Does your heart beat in time with mine
As I reach for you
As you reach for me

Washed in blue moonlight we find each other in that midnight place
Safe together at last in arms as fluid as quicksilver, as strong as steel
I love you for now
I love you for always

Once we meet there, we shall never leave there
Ordained by God to love and hold one another in holy union
You are my forever
You are my joy

From across the sea,
You have come to me
On the whisper of a dream long grown

Yet, you have brought to me,
from across the sea
A love I have never known

I'd imagined that love could feel like this
So brilliant, so perfect, so true

But never before, in my wildest dreams,
Could I imagine the beauty of you

Through grace I have found you
Through the Spirit, divine
Across an ocean and throughout all time

When you come to me,
They will soon all see
I am yours and you are mine

“Poetry needs both a mother and a father....”
                                                                                      -Virginia Wolfe


I am the poem
that has been born
of all the mothers
who have come before me.
In every fiber of my being,
in every cell of my body,
the words and deeds of these women
beat through my soul
in an eternal rhythm that will continue on
to my daughters in a distant,
unseen future.
Each mark upon my body,
every desire in my heart
is an echo
of all that they have loved,
all
that they have sacrificed.
The words I write
are their words,
muted and modulated
by time and society;
my name written upon this page
is written for their glory
and the recognition
of all that they have gained
for us women of today.
I am their testament,
I am their artistic expression.
We,
now,
are daughters,
are grand-daughters,
are nieces,
are sisters
of these women.
We are the mothers of tomorrow
and for all that is to come.
We add to
the poem,
the story,
the painting.
We are all literary women by our birth;
we are literature to our deepest core.
We are the muses of the fathers,
but the fathers cannot be
the womb of creativity
as we are.
There is glory in being
the mothers of expression.
I am not a poetess,
but I am a poem.
Another line has just been added.