heard a noise
inside my head
sounds like heaven
sounds like hell

don't know where
i'm gonna be
i just know
gonna be free

killed old memorise
in my long lost mind
always been there
no place to hide

just gonna be
a newborn child
talking new
speaking wild

Sweet spiced cookies
wafting in my nose.
It draws me to the kitchen
and on my tippy toes.

Mama's made a special treat.
She says it's still too hot to eat.
I can hardly stand the wait!
I bet they'll taste so great.

I hold mama's apron
until she gives me some.
It tastes just like mommy,
and it tastes just like home.

There is a 12-year-old girl, peeking through binoculars across the water, who has discovered quite the peculiar woman - from her choice of spoons chose by weight to the scientific sorting of underwear, ranked by softness and saving the rejects for the end of the week.

Knowing of the intensity of the dark cloud she recently emerged from would have overwhelmed, perhaps crushed, that 12-year-old girl. Maybe it’s why she has a visible bond with the environment.

she's a somewhat skittish woman, seeking solace in the nooks and crannies, such as listening to recordings of the soothing hums of airplanes through her headphones while pacing through the grocery store.

Just as in her youth, she eats every bite slowly, taking hours to finish a bowl. She clings to her solitary adventures and guards the secrets of the woods,
much as you once did.

For all of my life
I have been plagued with something
that I didn't know the name of
and than when I grew up
and I came to know what the name was
it all felt wrong to me
and I wanna speak my truth
but I fear for my words
for others
will label me as hateful
when really I wanna share it
because I think
healing is powerful and its possible
I am trying to own my truth
and not care what others think or say
from the time I was a child
I experienced lots of harrassment and violence
which i internalized to mean
that it was because I was a woman
so its like half of me loves feminine things
and the other half of me  just wants to be a man
so often
When I look at her she feels afraid
because they told her growing up
to shut up and be silent
to cook clean and be still
and that never quenched her spirit
so in my life
I have always done the hard things
I am choosing to sit with myself
to learn how to accept myself more
for I know that if i were to transition
or to slap a label on myself
I would just keep on hiding my true self
and I would always try to be something that I am not
so even though at times it hurts deeply
only really because of the mysogonoy
that I still see around me and experience at times
I will still choose to sit in my life
and I am still choosing to heal myself
and to have hope
that I am getting better little by little
I wish more voices like mine
can be heard
without being labeled
as hateful
for I don't hate
I understand there is a real lack of knowledge
out there in the world
and people like me
who don't fit the perfect mysognistic box of how women
are suppose to be
should be embraced and held instead of judged
this is my truth
and I have been longing to make it heard
for a very long time.

My Child
You're in a boat
And I am your oar
You'll make it farther in life
When you involve me in every aspect
If you choose not
You'll drift wherever the waters take you
Soon to be lost
Without even knowing

I try to choose kindness
I try to take deep
breaths
and let my anger wash out

But, my there are wasps in
my brain

there is a buzzing
hot
hot
heat
settled where my neck and head
meet

I swim laps in the pool
I walk the road and back
I hope that maybe I will
make it back
kinder

I walk foot trails with
my son
the leaves casting dappled light on his gold-spun hair
I feel my chest break at the sight
He is so kind but he is mine
will he feel this buzzing

will it lead him to break every day
I try to quiet my voice so
he doesn't learn
to yell

but I never learned quiet.
I am teaching myself. I am learning
He is patient with me
that is not his job

I see the sun on his hair
He jumps on my back in the pool
he giggles and wails
love incarnate

I think I will remember these times most
I will feel nostalgia bathed in dappled gold
when my bones are brittle and old
when I have finally learned
to quiet the buzzing

but will it be too late
will his giggles cease
will his small hands turn into fists
will he become me

I am teaching myself. I am learning.
I hope he is learning too
I hope he is seeing me try, seeing me take deep breaths
seeing me scramble for kindness
kindness!
I thrash against these angry chains and I hope he knows

but
I watched my father thrash his whole life
It is how I knew to try
I still carry his anger in me like
like wasps in my brain

I choose kindness
I take deep breathes
I swim laps and walk trails
I hope that kindness will
chose me back