There are parts of you that make you who you are,
And parts that don’t.
Parts of you, that without them,
You don’t feel like you belong to the group you
Once associated with.
Having my ******* removed in order to enter remission
And beat breast cancer
Feels like my womanhood has been lost.
Flat chested takes on an entirely different meaning.
It’s crazy how I hear women
Wishing that their ******* weren’t so small
But they don’t know what it’s like
To have no ******* at all.
Or that they wish their hair was longer
When mine is the length of the guard
On an electric razor that my husband uses.
How does a man begin to love a woman
That has scars where her ******* should be?
The hair on my head has yet to grow back, even a little bit.
Reminding me only that I’m still a woman
Is the gift Mother Nature sends each month.
The cramps in my abdomen seem ten times less
Compared to heaving an empty stomach
Into a pan or toilet bowl next to me
After the chemicals have entered my system.
Throwing up from morning sickness
As my unborn child has just started to live
Told me that I was indeed a woman.
But now after she has grown and must
Watch her mother battle cancer,
Lose her hair, throw up nothing but emptiness,
And she still tells me that I’m the
Most beautiful woman on the planet.
How do I tell her that I feel like
An alien from Mars?

Beneath the cities phantoms
lie the beating heart of good people;
reaching outwards from shadow.

In the dying moonlight
an out of tune piano plays its last note;
warped by water over time.

In the close darkness
faces fade emitting anguish;
I wish I could find the missing piece.

That one remaining jigsaw
the puzzle would be complete;
and in it, I would be whole.

One last time.

I have not felt as if my role plays into gender, yet I neglect the idea of set standards to which 'common' 'civil' people suggest to be appropriate dinner conversation.

Humanity is a course.  The path from chaos to order and order to chaos.  Each human burns like a star, and just like the galaxy, there will be collisions.  Controlling that creates the need to have an accepted way of life.

I am not guarded, I am precise.  I give all I posses to those in need and refuse to be taken from.  Diminished.  I am not heartless, I see the way.

I feel no shame in my rugged frame, and praise the build of my character and virtue.  Determined. Every-flowing.  Like water.

You can't dilute it.  Drop ink in water, in a few moments you will not see the pigment.  Yet it lowers its quality, its ability to be consumed as a life source.

When people recklessly posses the emotions, the ability to create and destroy- View it as a gift, not an arsenal.