I wonder if I've outgrown you --
That Ive shed my skin I didn't know I was wearing
But you are heavy
And I am struggling
I wonder if I am wrong for it
I wonder if comfortable is really correct
But my eyes sting and my heart aches
Every time I hear you speak
In my mind I see me crawling away
But why do I crawl back?
Dark clouds, scatter;
scatter and flee.
Brighter days, lighter days,
come quickly to me.
Hurry days, weeks, months and years
and sweetly, swiftly hurry til I am near
days of deliverance, days of no fears,
only my Beloved, my only dear.
I may as well make you slither
On the underside of your belly
For the rest of your ****** days
Seeing how you have deceived me
And then covered a wound with dust.
My life has been molded
by the world of 15 minute increment agendas
and 150 character updates by the second.
My body has been pacified
by the world of liquid sugar satiation
and instant edible gratification.
My mind has been conditioned
by the world that favors extroverted personalities
and introverted abdomens and collarbones.
I live, move and breathe
in the world that is scared of freethinkers
and will not succeed in boxing me in.
In my world, I define my own worth.
My child who sits by herself
With tears welling and a tidal wave of emotion
Too overwhelming for your tiny frame
Your precious mind
Your beautiful heart
Do you know that you are beautiful?
My child who watches the children play and laugh
My child who thinks and feels
With the world passing, acting, doing, ignoring
Do you know that you are worth the world?
Has anyone told you your hair falls in soft waves of gold
And your eyes are light and radiant?
Do you know that you are capable of even the things that scare you most?
Would you believe that you are every kind of lovely?
I dreamt that a
was at my
I awoke in a sweat
at the thought
You like me for the me that doesn’t make your coffee strong enough
the me that always seems to make you late
the me that almost burns a batch of cookies
the me that can't park straight to save my life
the me that absolutely hates being tickled
the me that takes some comments a little too sensitively
the me that keeps you up too late and makes you lose sleep
the me that never fully succeeds at using chopsticks
the me that takes a lifetime to decide what to eat
the me that insists you must trim your mustache
the me that needs your shoulder to cry on
the me that worries this “me” is too needy
And somehow you can put your hands right on my deepest insecurities
Exposing my vulnerabilities while covering me gently with love
Because I know I’m safe in your arms and you make me want to believe the sweet words you say.