I first saw you at the bookstore
Months of texting culminating in that first moment
Days filled with vulnerability and laughter
Hours of silly photos and odd Tik Toks
Bunny videos and cat dramas
Books, games, and basketball
Family, dreams, and needs.

During those first months, I envisioned
how it would feel to meet you
If I would recognize you
If it would feel as natural in person
Would conversation be filtered?
Would we not know what to say?
Would nerves get in the way?

The wait before I saw you was tense
Knotted stomach and sweaty palms
Aimless strolling without seeing
Picking spines off shelves
While my own swivels every time the door opens

Surrounded by vanillin escapes and bitter coffee
Seeing your pink sweater and jeans
The heart calms and breath steadies
Chatter and rustling dissipate
Every crevice of my being thrums
As I watch you approach
Sparks shimmer up my arms
A mirror soul stares back

I first saw you in the book store
Walls filled with happy endings
Hopes and dreams of others' imaginations
Yet those stories I held so dear told me lies.
That I was worthy of a fairytale kind of love
And for a moment it felt real.

Our first hug felt too short
I didn’t want to let you go
Our first kiss left me wanting more
I melted in your arms
Our first misunderstanding dropped me
I didn’t see it coming
Our last conversation left me shattered
I wanted to keep going

But I’ll always have when I first saw you
The outside world ceased to matter
The smallest touch set me aflame
When everything stilled
When all was novel
When all was ardent
When all left me animated
When all left me breathless
When wistful was just a word in a book

Can Morning forget the violence of the Night?

For gentle dew to replace emboldened strikes
that a bird's song answers echoed screams
and glittering haze overtakes peppered smoke

Does Night whisper through the day
found in streams of pressure
empty gallons
torn paper
discarded masks
shattered glass

That Night's ***** fingers
grasping
clawing
scratching the surface of a past
carefully hidden
bleeds through pristine learned pages
to words unspoken

bandages wrapped
milk poured
least the wound bring feared change

the silvered light, a true new Morning
true dawn bursting forth in honest reconciliation
not forgetting
not forgiving

but forward

Morning and Night
pushing

but can Morning  further meaning of Night

I know they say
I’m not less than in view
But I’m bursting at the seams
Of being told

        What I can be

I'm more than that pretty thing
        hiding in the corner.

When can I state my view?
Decide my own timeline.
Fight as a peer
Instead of a squalid sequel.

I’m more than that pretty thing
        gracing your arm.

When will I be seen for my intelligence?
Be introduced as my accomplishments
Not just someone’s pet.

I’m more than that pretty thing
        reading beside you

These walls are filled with work;
Teeming with the outcomes of edification
Twists and turns in vivid inspiration

I’m filled to the brim
Yet more will emerge

I’m more than that pretty thing
        dancing next to you.

I’m an artist
With a vision all my own

A writer
Spinning words of chaos across a page.

My body can bring forth life
But it’s worth more than that
Yet your say is better than mine?

I’m more than that pretty thing
        sleeping beside you.

Yes, I wear lingerie
But bring those eyes up
It’s not for your viewing pleasure.

I’m more than that pretty thing
        silent in acquiescence.

I need to get out
Before these walls cave in
If I get any more
I won’t claim what to do.

        It can’t take a lifetime
        But I’ll fight one true

I’m more than that pretty thing
        wading through the crowd

That’s the way it needs to be
Time is running few

Running out of walls is not the way I plan to be.

I'm more than that pretty thing
        marching down the street.

I’m that pretty thing
        emerging from the shadows.
I’m that pretty thing
        taking care of others.
I’m that pretty thing
        using those walls.
I’m that pretty thing
        running for a change.
I’m that pretty thing
        awake in passion.
I’m that pretty thing
        screaming to be heard.
I’m that pretty thing
        pushing through the mud.

I’m that pretty thing marching down the street.

Somewhere in Vermont
I see the sky
Stars scattered
like lighting bugs back home

Clouds drift,
Cold breeze,
Threatening rain

Shaped like an unfamiliar constellation
Headlamps shine
Some red, some blue, some yellow
Some bright, some dim

There's a presence here
Neither scary
Or threatening

Or even mysterious

People breathe,
A guitar sounds,
Pens scribble
Each in unity with the other

Somewhere in Vermont
People write
Separated by space
Their own thoughts
Spilling around them

Combining as one
Yet still
Individual

Brought together
By happenstance

They breathe together
as
One

I sit back on the computer,
Browsing through the pages of those I grew up with
Those people who thought they knew everything about me
I sit back and see what they’ve made of themselves

This girl is single, living alone with her four cats
This other girl now has two kids, unmarried and no degree
This girl is engaged to her high school sweetheart, yet they don’t look happy
This other couple broke up, wait they’re back together, nope spoke too soon
This guy is working at the local supermarket, never went to college after his arrest
This guy gained a few pounds, no longer the star athlete
This guy dropped off the map

See being the quiet girl, I learned secrets
I knew the deepest secrets of every single one of these people
Because while they sat in the back of the room chattering on about their so called problems
I was sitting in the front,

Listening

This girl had two boyfriends, and even more flings
This girl slept with four guys in one night
This girl’s boyfriend cheated on her, over and over again
This couple would sneak off in between classes, during lunch, or school assemblies
This guy was the trophy child, who gave away free drugs to his friends hidden inside pens
This guy was the quarterback; everything handed to him on a golden platter
This guy was the school stud who was hiding a relationship with his boyfriend by sleeping with every girl he could

Back then I listened because I wanted to feel apart of something bigger
I wanted to be one of them,
I wanted to be invited to all those weekend bashes
I wanted to be the girl people felt awed by, inspired by, idolized
I wanted to be part of the “in” crowd

So I stood there, day after day
As they teased me
Berated me
Shattered my confidence
Tearing apart everything I was
Telling me I would never amount to anything
Telling me I was fat, ugly, stupid
That I unworthy of love
Telling me…

I

Was

Nothing




Let them tell me that today
I see everything of what they have become
Those people I wanted to be are no longer there
Their confidence shattered by reality

The best days of their life ended the day they left high school

Mine on the other hand are just beginning
I am the girl who is wanted
I’m the girl who can go wild
I’m the girl who can be passionate
I’m the girl who is adventurous
I’m the girl who brings pride
I’m the girl who is the athlete
I'm the girl who travels the world
I’m the girl who is unashamed of who I am

Because by pushing me out
My oppressors gave me everything I needed
The strength to try
The courage to dream
The ability to think
The confidence to be unique
Independence to thrive
But more than anything
My oppressors gave me desire

Desire to be more than they believed I could be