Stealthily,
dressed in black,
late at night,
wearing a mask,
I will steal
the guard keys
from the wall,
opening the cells
one by one,
letting out all
the hidden,
forgotten, and
wasted talent--
the painters,
the poets,
the rappers,
the cartoonists.
Together as an
unlikely union,
a mismatched clan,
we will show
the world
just how much
potential has
been unjustly
locked away.

I wonder what
Nobel Peace Prizes
I would win, what
accolades I would
accumulate, and what
notoriety I would
claim if all the
energy I direct
at you I instead
casted at the
world

I’m disappointed
you whisper
your strong hands
wrapped tightly
around my waist
as I wiggle out
of your grasp
not wanting this
moment to end
but knowing it
must before the
guards come by

I’m disappointed
I moan
as I realize
these few
fleeting moments
of perfection
comforted by
your touch
high from
your presence
were only
in my
dreams

I’m disappointed
though I have
one more chance
to see you
to talk to you
to place my
hand on your
broad shoulder
a supportive touch
to you
a loving touch
to me
I can never
tell you
about this
dream

I should be
a martyr
to society’s ways
I should nod
my head
say yes ma’am
I should play
with children
a big smile
on my face
I should spend
countless hours
doting over
my husband
I should sacrifice
my independence
and become
dependent

I have spent
so many years
learning that
staying true to
myself is more
important than being
a people-pleaser
but now I am
starting to doubt
this so-called
wisdom I
have learned
Would I rather
be right or
be married?
Must I not
sacrifice myself
for the unity
of my marriage?

Your heart
is pure gold
a treasure
hard to
uncover
but when
I touch you
it is as if
the gold has
disappeared

-Help me to want your treasure

What ifs
dance through my mind
parading one after the other
What ifs
swarm around me like a hive of bees
attacking at every turn
What ifs
rush over me
a tsunami I cannot control

I have been trained
I have the tools
I have the knowledge
but I cannot seem to find
the golden key
the solution has escaped me
and so I suffer in
What ifs

As if
A tornado swoops me up
As if
My vision blurs
As if
Trapped beneath the ground
As if
Clawing for a way out
As if
I cannot breath
As if
Dying a slow death
As if
Completely smothered
As if
There is no more air to
Breathe
This is anxiety