Theres this little tiny bird
Thats been flying and existing
In the heart of my spine
To coo and whisper
As the day filters and becomes harder
Or flies in a flurry of colorful motions and waves
Depending on if I'm having a good day.

A pitter patter as she hums a magical
Or sorrowful tune
It circulates and changes through out my days
I painted every bit of the walls white last night.

We scraped the firebird mother earth from it all
She came off in our hands
I saw her body parts in singular tiny pieces
In the trash can
My production designer sent me a photograph
Of her broken and resilient face
And the voice in my head autocorrects me
And tells me to shut up and be smaller.

My hair is a rainbow
A friend said I look like a watermelon last night
I think she meant to poke fun
But I could care less
And as I grow older,
I care less and less
I take things less and less sensitively.

A transformation, rebirth
A few wonder and skeptical remarks
As to my need, desire
To change, reformulate, adapt
But its because I came from the land of plenty
Molasses covered cocoons of commitment
And I retrained my mind and my body
To sleep and exist in the crevices of newness.

I guess secretly I fear destruction
Death heaves and sighs its weary head all around
In the coming summer months
I fear my own morality
And fantasize just how I would
Sprout a cape and combat it all
With my quiet inner strength.

Moon sisters fighting through their own fights
I get caught up in thinking I reside so alone
Caught in the middle of a constant whirlwind
I ink my feminine thighs
Dye my hair to look like a secret fantasy
Meetings, always working
My mother surrounds me with the negative
Details of what occurs in the world
Walking away but giving love forward
Theres a man across the street in Alabama
Abusive and deceptive
Snipers meant to take his life
If he bore arms
My mama told me
And described the physical damage to his wife
I interrupted her and said
ENOUGH.

I wear it all like a badge
Or my lady bow ties
It clings and rings my neck
Like a house on the back of my shoulders
And I should be running right now
But I needed to cry
And write it out.

Ex lover and I talked on the phone
Things escalated
He sounds well
We got sensual, been so singular honey
But by the end
I didn't care.

I don't know.
I never seem to
But I write in my notebook
Spend money I don't have
Surround myself with artistry I've always wanted
Theres gotta be a path within it all
I feel so lost sometimes.

But I sink my teeth into the lostness.