Lesson

You taught me to be afraid.

It didn’t take long.

I can still feel the wall beneath my hands.

Nowhere else to go.

It’s okay, though.

It’s okay.

I’m here.

You’re not.

Balance

Arms splayed,
I think of a mountain,
a tree in the wind,
rooted to the Earth
but no dirt beneath my feet.

It has taken me years
to find balance.
In the mirror I see the wobble.

My body and I have not been friends
these many long years,
and I ask for its forgiveness now,
at least until the end of class.

Loss

It scooped out a piece of my soul,
a hole that will never fill.
More will come with each passing year.

I wonder if that will be the day I die,
when the last piece is taken,
and there is no connection
between the world and me.

The Blessing of Leaving

I was too heavy for the birds to lift,
yet they kept me company on my way.
And the trees dipped to brush my hair,
pressing leaves into my hands.
The sun was bashful behind the clouds,
but we have spent so many days together.
I cannot say what I will miss most
as I walk into the darkness,
but I am grateful for this last walk,
a peaceful jaunt from this life.

No Vacancy

Knocking at the door,
but I see no hands.
Knock, bang, pound.
I have no answer.
Insistence is futile
I don’t know what you expect.
There is nothing for you here.

Explosive

Anger never becomes her.
Or me.

Waves of fury odd adornments.
Not pretty nor sweet.

To be weak and strong,
easily fixed,
all edge puzzle pieces.

My rage is a mystery.
Study cosmology.

I will not shrink to comprehensible dimensions.

Whirlwind

Crazy, psycho, insane.
Wrap me in the white words
and send me over the waterfall.

I can’t hear you,
throwing myself off the walls.
Ping pong with nunchuks.
Or not.

Stretch my muscles,
break the joints
to do the dance.

Push to the other side.
It’s there.

Clean Up

I didn’t tell him
I tore up all the Christmas cards,
red and green confetti covering
stale bread, crumpled paper
in the trash.

I didn’t tell him
how sad they made me,
the tiny family, the glittery snow,
messages of cheer.

I didn’t tell him
the real reason behind their destruction:
the complete lack of any from my family.

The Way Back

Every time I get lost,

he finds me, the guide

(and why is he always male?)

to lead me back, to tell me it is hard,

to let me know that I need to continue.

 

I don’t want to follow.

I don’t want to be on his path.

Getting off is not an option.

Not yet.

 

The path is surrounded by stone walls.

I cannot see the end to their height.

But further ahead, they will dissolve,

and I can step into warm sand,

walk off the polished stones.

 

He reminds me that it will take time,

effort,

maybe my life.

 

It will be worth it,

he promises.

Maybe he is right.

Maybe not.

 

I am too far along to turn back.

Generosity Foiled

I collected the rain

for you. You’ll hate it,

pour it into the ground,

watering the plants,

giving it back.

It was for you.

Keep it.

I don’t want anything,

not even the jar.