If I state I’m going to do something
then don’t, as often happens,
then I’ve planted a ***** seed
that’ll grow into a choking vine,
not free, or wise

So dark January resolutions
might help Calvinists,
or masochists, or both,
but for the rest of us
comfort in our skins is better

I have no preach for you
to do this: just listen

Your own heart cries and sings
all day, every day
and you will beat yourself
far harder, over cheese and *****,
than anyone who loves you would

So go inward a while and think,
and even if your conclusions
don’t match the zeitgeist,
love you, as we do

my roots are growing in ashy
i can't stop looking at my acne scars

i taste everything good in me
and lick the sin off my fingers

but no one told me that loving myself
would be this exhausting

Why is this so fun, why is this so enjoyable, there’s nothing dangerous about self care
I’m only helping myself
I’m taking care of myself so please don’t worry about me, I can handle it on my own, just go away so you won’t be disappointed, that’s all I can offer

Off the daily cuff
blood pressure rises,
no real surprise
when this number over that
seems to dictate it all

For it to fall to a level
where there is no dread
of a sudden clutched chest
or brain wildfire
requires time for self care,

And though there’s the rub,
your work will never love you back,
so feel no guilt stepping away
before you crack

i am trying to take care of my body
nurture it as if it were a newborn
cherish its hills and valleys, winding channels and perpetual rainfall
trying to help it move and sit and walk
and perhaps someday it will dance again

i am trying to take care of my mind
gather it up into my arms, tenderly
push away the clouds that gather and threaten to obscure the sun
throw open the curtains, unleash the riotous day
flood its rooms with light and the inevitability
of unwavering hope

i am trying to take care of my soul
nurse it carefully, puckered lips towards the sky
awake in anticipation for all the things that are yet to happen
the may-nots, the mays, the possibilities, the junes
and all of the beautiful days
that are sure to follow

as i push away the fury in my heart.

I'm not your prodigal son;
I'm your abandoned daughter.
Don't wait around for me to return.
I won't.

I gave and gave because I was a child
Hoping for love I received conditionally.
When I stopped giving, you left.
That says more about you than me.

You worship a God in your image.
One who asks for all.
You say he loves unconditionally,
But that's what you said about you.

You worship an abuser,
And in his name you abuse.
You pray for repentance
But are unwilling to change yourself.

I know you miss me.
You want me back so I can give,
And a part of you really does care.
Your actions matter more.

You could love me again
If you wanted.
I haven't hidden myself from you.
I'm still here.

You can't expect me to come
Crawling back to you.
The fattened calf you'd offer only
If I approached on your terms.

That's not the forgiving father.
That's a parent still grasping
For control of their child.
I don't need your food.

If you wanted to learn,
Maybe even consider
You could be wrong,
I might call you again.

You won't even use my name.
Like the neighbors of your savior,
You say, isn't this our son?
I'm unwelcome in your home.

So I've finally done it.
I did what I knew I had to.
I shook the dust from my sandals,
And I left.

Dusting off cobwebs
From the corners of my mind
Giving them the proper love
To disintegrate the grime
That takes me off point
And wastes my time

dear basil,

please start drawing again
singing again
please start loving again
and living again

please start writing again

<3,
basil