there was a slice of chocolate cake in the fridge
and my sister asked me if i wanted it.
i didn't respond, stared off into space
and continued to smoke my cigarette
in the kitchen because mom was
asleep already and it was 1 am
on a saturday in july
and it was hot and we were both braless and hoping
the single fan on the counter would circulate the air enough
to make us comfortable in the cottage that we called home
that didn't have air conditioning in the middle of the woods.

the three of us hadn't moved for three more hours,
instead spent all of that time talking about nothing
and everything the way sisters do
because sisters eventually end up saying all the words that have
to be said
but each time it sounds new even though it never is.

we're all different but the thing about sisters is
that other people always see you as the same.

we all eventually grew into having brown hair
even though i had been born a redhead
and she had been born blond
and she had been born the same shade of brunette
that still graced her scalp but was thinner than the rest of ours
and fit in an elastic pony tail comfortably
unlike mine, which broke those things immediately
and she, who cut hers all off in hopes
to cleanse herself and
keep herself from being weighed down.

There's something deeply satisfying
In decimating a piece of runaway tissue
With a healthy jet of ****.

I stand towering above it
As it clings stealthily to the ceramics
And
      cackle
                as
                   I
                     reduce
                                 it
                                    to
                                        mush.

It bleeds yellow.
I feel no remorse.

Perhaps that's why
If the world were ruled by women
There'd be less war.

For a long period of time, we have been told to conform to the different standards set for us by the society. We grew up in a system where having milk colored skin and lean, slender bodies is the only acceptable image of beauty. Several advertisements and individuals will try to tell you what you need to buy or do to improve yourself, and I’m writing this letter to say that you are superb; a creation of purpose.

In a world where violence, fear and hate continue to exist, it is essential for us to unify and persist in eradicating the barriers that have been placed before us. Regardless of our differences - our backgrounds, religions, ethnicity, political views, jobs, academic standing, and flaws or perfections – we all want the same thing in life: respect, love and success. We all want to be seen and esteemed for who we are but we must also know that a women’s success doesn’t equalize with another’s failure. It is important that we work forward in life hand in hand, rather than to step on others just to rise above everyone else. Know that there is a time, place and an opportunity for all of us to accomplish our dreams. Know that you are able to think for yourself – despite of what the world keeps telling you. I believe that women like you and me are capable of creating history every day. I believe in the power of inseparability, that we could push the boundaries and open other people’s minds to a better discourse if we collectively act to make it happen.

As we celebrate International Women’s Month, I encourage you to find the good in the women around you. Let yourself be inspired by their experiences setbacks and victories. By doing this, we not only strengthen our respect for one another, but we open doors for others and ourselves.

This is letter is for all the women who’s looking for their place in this world. Whoever you may be – a student, a businesswoman, a coach, a lawyer, a janitor, a musician, a scientist, a military, a teacher, a traveler, a doctor, an athlete, a poet, or a transwoman – know that you are smart, beautiful, inspirational and strong.

Thank you for being yourself.

Sincerely,
Pat

There's a few too many years on these old bones
Where my soul calls itself at home
As the lights are dimming inside of these eyes
Pulling the shades down on this house's life

With the shingles thinning on top of my head
What used to be dark is now more gray instead
With the bottom floor being aching feet
As this foundation struggles to steady me

Not to mention the pressure on these old pipes
To keep my hearts furnace burning both day and night
Which keeps the heat at a steady flow
Little wonder my hands and feet are always so cold

With my siding sagging more than it should
I'd pay for home improvements if it'd do any good
But in the meantime I'll stay bundled inside
This old house that I call my life

It happened.
It happened.
Repeat.
It happened.
It happened.
No more fighting against the truth
No more of the denial.
It happened.
It happened.
Chant...Breathe.
Repeat.
It happened.
It happened.
Life push me forward.
World steady my feet.
It happened.
It happened.
Focus, hold it.
Breathe.
It happened.
It happened.
Open up your palm.
Memories fall into a holding jar.
It happened.
It happened.
Lock the jar inside.
Darken the lights but remember the presence.
It happened.
It happened...