You’re either here or you're out
Don’t go back in forth into my life
You can’t care
Here and there
Just to ease your peace of mind

A **** remark
extinguished her, there was
this sunlit absence,

his fingers scuffled
over the drawing board,
its white background

sent a reflection of brilliance
against her like a shield,
to where she stood

still not holding the candle
to him, to his wits,
his superior eloquence,

as she was shrinking
in silence, a wilted
violet losing its scent .

That’s when he spoke again,
very slowly and in a low tone
nearly inaudible

while his pen made a scraping noise
emulating the shape of her eyes,
and the gentle curve of her lip.

His words fell like ink blobs
onto her face and gradually dissolved
blotting out its contours.

i saw a woman in my reflection tonight.
she stared at me with a challenge in her eyes, she looked like she wanted me to dare her.
she craved my indecision so she could knock it down and build some sure in its place.
her jawline looked like it could bite anyone who said she wasn't good enough. her jawline screamed good enough, great enough. it screamed its beauty. it will not listen to you.
her eyebrows ran free. they remembered years of pulling and plucking and shaping into something everyone wanted, and they sat and sang, defiant, knowing they were right all along.
those eyebrows were ferocious.
her nose held still some child, the only part that wasn't letting go. it still wanted buttons and stuffed animals, it still clung to me.
but she wasn't letting that stop her.
she pulled my eyes down, i saw her torso and shapes.
she was stout. her back wanted me to say she wasn't tall enough, so it could straighten and take up the whole room. it deserved the whole room.
her chest was there, feminine, developed. it didn't care for pressing and pressuring, it said, "here is a woman and she is for all of us. she will fight for all of us."
the shape of her was clear. there was no trickery involved in making her human.
her hair hung forward. it desperately tried to claim some innocence by covering one of those indignant eyes, but that eye just gleamed and glared right on through.
those arms held nations at their wrists, and those fingers itched to point at what she planned to change. she looked like she could wrangle a child, a horse, a life. she looked like she could save you, or anyone.
she was already saving me.
she always was.

you are allowed
to break out of the old you
if it constricts you
like a pair of too tight jeans
you don’t keep pressing yourself into them
you go and get yourself new ones that fit
because your body keeps changing
and so does your mind

so who cares
if you had long hair all your life
and everyone likes your long hair so very much
take the scissors and
cut them off

who cares
if you’ve been doing this for years
but are curious for something else now
drop it and sign up new

you are not your past self
you don’t have to keep her alive
to satisfy other people’s expectations
you are allowed to **** her every evening
before going to bed
and rise anew from her ashes
the next morning

Her being radiates faith,
and behind her eyes lay confidence.
Sometimes I envy her belief,
I resent that she has a home to go,
while I stand to freeze alone.
I'll praise her strength,
for it's something I'll never have.  
Maybe sometimes I wish I could believe,
but I am the way I am, like a blind man,
I can't suddenly decide to see.