Time spirals upward
level after level
an ascension of ability.

Perhaps I smolder with inadequacy.
Lost angel in the female order
evading the ultimate aim
of a woman.

Some secrets are
a stained glass pane
a holy station of benevolence.

I was tempered
in the seething heart of knowledge
my soul knows past lifetimes

when I plunged chubby feet
into fur-lined boots
lit a fire to cook
watched smoke
circle upwards into night
heard our herd of reindeer
stamp and snort in the snow

prayed for strength
as winter prowled outside our goahti.

Finding myself poorly suited
for motherhood
I opted out this time around.

Sir, in the white shirt and straw hat,
do not
mix me up with yet another blind man
who has the ability to take
one step at a time,

I am not allowed to take steps.
For I am a particle in the air
waiting to be caught and sat down by my mother
so she may teach me how to sit like a lady.

Told my feelings were fake
Laughed at for crying
Brutalized for refusing
Depicted as anomalous
This is my "home"

I exploded, caught a breath as I felt the silencing

Crossed volatile environments
Misunderstood ephemeral friends
Bullied, ostracized
Experienced injustice
This is school

I performed, in the illusion of shutting silencing

Living my curiosity
Knowledge is my strength
Reflexivity makes me grow
Embracing my difference
This is my refuge

I introspected, in the freedom of their paralyzed silencing

Meet mind-like people
Discovered my emotions
Explored my preferences
Dug my family history
This is my travel

I free-fell, as in my trust I hit structural silencing

Communicating humbly
Nourishing healthy relationships
Trusting my positions
Affirming my autonomy
This is my womanhood

Becoming a mother, I urge to gather the pieces for her freedom

Mother tell me,
who do your eyes meet in the mirror?
wolf woman wife
little girl
and perhaps ghost.
Caddy did you love them
yes
yes but when they touched me I died
yes but when they touched me I died and was resurrected because a woman dies but comes back another just a change of costume so we can walk in our shadows and strut and fret again.
 
mother why is the mirror always blurry,
and why are the rooms all empty in this body
fortress sanctuary
that is made by the magic of transformation
Caddy the rooms may be empty but can’t you hear the music?
bird in a cage,
and its songs about longing to feel human.

i am not a woman
i am a slab of pink flesh
soft and smooth under your rough hands
my heart warm and alive and beating
fast fast fast
beneath your empty chest

i am not a woman
i am your excuse
with my breath too sweet
and my skin too inviting
drawing you in against my will
as you wrap me in your sin

Fools

too distracted by what i am not to see what i have become

i am fire
burning and raging and hungry for blood
i dare you to touch me now

i am a queen
my throne carved with the clay from which you moulded me
and as you kneel before me
head bowed
begging for mercy
praying to the god whose name you have screamed to bind me
i laugh
silly boy,
don’t you know your god is afraid of me?

breathed
through the slit of her mouth
where dandelions smiled
begging to be
uprooted, undone
in a cosmic sigh across this endless leaf, the Wind she
turned her back to us
what felt like a yawn across a fatal gorge
and down below, the tremble of her core
lifting up our dreams in outstretched fists
of flower dust, from a time before
we..
close our eyes in unison
breathe out
the tune   of our birth,
which our mothers' hummed in their sleep, our being
only imagined
in their unfathomed dreams

How sensuous and seductive is the unique confidence of a woman. The way she nurtures her appearance as well as her career, education, and every living thing around her. Her dedicated intellect that balances a drive towards production as well as love and affection. It is in a woman’s heart that grace is found, boundless supplies for those who have wronged her, but also those who she will teach about the love she found in herself. She is a beacon to a society lost in the fray.

I remember being a little girl
Spending late nights on the couch with my mom
Dozing off to Dancing With the Stars

I remember being a little girl
Playing dress up with my brother and sister
Without a care in the world

I remember being a little girl
Thinking I could be whoever I wanted
Knowing I could have whatever I dreamed

I remember growing up
Realizing the world isn't all sugar and spice
Certainly not everything nice

I remember growing up
Age 12 is the first time someone called me a woman
From their car racing past me

I remember growing up
And now instead of being a little girl
I just feel like one

Pretty princesses live in pretty castles
that they built themselves
towering upon the clouds
towards their dreams and goals
nothing was by halves
Surrounded by moats
to protect what she means the most,
a prized possesion,
of a heart of gold and diamonds
Keep the enemies' attackers away,
trap them at bay
Away from where she kept her high-esteem, rightly so
guarded, for her one and only S.O....