The things that made me wonder

I want to hold grace, I want to let the hate of others roll off of me like water on a stone because there’s a strength that comes with that, with holding onto dignity when the world begs for you to fall with them. But it’s hard. To be kicked when you are down. To reach your hand out thinking you are making a friend but finding more of the same instead. But still I want to “take the high road” and again I bite my tongue even though I really want to scream because I want to be different then who I was before and especially from the people who keep making me feel like shit. If all I can be is a small part of the example I wish to set, if all I can do is hold the hateful nasty words at bay because I still believe that we should all be building each other up and growing together even if we disagree then I guess that’s what I’ll continue to try to do. If all I can do for those who come after me, for my son, is show that you should still try to hold your composure even if there is no reason to, because hate and anger will always cloud your way, then I will and I hope that grace can be that mountain that we can use to go farther.

soaked in un-rest

sit still and breath, watch life win

even if I'm living in sin I need to feel it.

So I clean my act, wash my face,

feel withdraw but hold onto grace

don't show my lonely because it's my ace

and try to live my life for me again

because if I hold my anger like a hot stone

I may be burnt but at least I grow

I chew my tongue until it falls off

but know even a mute can give it all they've got.

So I run head first through fire shouting,

I'm a Phoenix even if I'm a liar

I come out broken even more then before

but it doesn't matter because still onward I'll go.

I'm not afraid to break I'm not afraid to bleed

but I can't live a life too stagnantly.

Down to the river you know I must go

even if the water destroys my bones.

The thing about breaking is the making of the new

don't be scared when the world's breaking down on you

look for the light it always shines through

I've slept

Half an hour

And I feel

Like complete hell

Emotionally

I'm destroyed again

And subtly

I try to ask for help

And the world says

This is mom life now

You get none

It's not about you

anymore

It's wonderful

You'll love it

And no one

Gets the point

That I

Feel so small now

Feel so hallow now

And I need help

More then words

More then sympathy

I need help

Finding peace again

Because I swear

I could do

The hardest job

Physically

And find

Hope in it

But I can't

Look inside

My own mind

And find

anything

That isnt

setting me

On fire.

Mental health

Should be free

Mental health

Shouldn't have

A stigma

And i

Should be able to

Ask for help

And not feel

Bad for it

Or that

Feeling like

I need help

Is so normal

That it isn't

Actually needed

I should

Be able to

Ask

And resources

Be everywhere

Because I swear

If I could

Hold myself

Like a baby

I would

And I never

Want to know

That someone felt

Like I do now

And all I did

Was hush them

With words

Meant to sound

Understanding

But actually just

Belittled the fact

That they wanted help

But didn't know

to feel that part of me finally expressed and somehow better understood.

But then I stopped.

And lately I need that tingle of wonder I used to know so well

the frequency I vibrated within and for

an inner peace manifested in confidence and freedom.

The beating of poetry in my blood. The scent of the words on my tongue.

Knowing they were a part of me regardless of what I would become

and suddenly that didn't matter anymore

what I was and all these trivialities were simply undone.

I had these beautiful words and I needed nothing anymore

and knowing that became the ultimate energy source.

Learning that I was writing for myself alone; to see clearly, to breathe dearly,

to feel the connection between what I wanted and who I was.

That's what writing gave me and instead of cradling it like the gift it was I set it aside

I could give a million reasons why.

But one day I woke up

and I made coffee and I hugged my baby

and instead of turning on the tv, instead of trying to hide, I read poetry.

I remembered the feeling. I remembered to breathe.

I remembered who I thought I could be and that ultimately everything was alright.

Just like that I made a choice to change the channel I was on,

to listen to myself, to my body again,

and pour what needed to bleed out from my finger tips onto paper and that I still could.

I remembered I could feel with every part of myself and to make time for me to feel in poetry.

How important that is to write about what hurts and everything in between

I made a big decision in the middle of May after too much time isolating myself

to write again every day

to find that calm again that comes from knowing you can slay your own demons with pencils.

Something that didnt have to be just a dream because it was actually just me

But you can do self care anytime.

When you get up in the morning watch yourself get dressed in the mirror.

Tell each part of your body that you normally hate what you love about it instead.

This belly held my baby for 8 wholes months. It was his first home. And I'm happy it allowed me to do that.

The stretch markes and wrinkles are battle wounds and scares. Proof that I was able to endure the siege they call labor. Proof that I am still fighting the war of time.

These arms have allowed me to carry many things these legs have taken me far. Now these arms carry him my legs are comfortable supports. It's all for him.

Fire

There's something about the night

the floor creaks and all around me the world sleeps

sliding across the living room floor

sometimes it's a choir just to continue living anymore

I know what you're thinking

it sounds so extreme like a cry for attention maybe

but sometimes the hardest part of the day is choosing to go on

who knew that sadness could live in footsteps too

something you can't outrun

in anticipation you pace

at night you mistake your ability to crawl

but you can't get away from your own impression in the snow

your fingerprint on the earth

Where did inspiration go?

It's the dawn's dilemma,

the loss of all the plans from the night before.

3am hangs on strong

it's just the final push before it's gone.

1 last surge, 1 last let go.

Maybe the sight of the sunrise just might

loosen the words to flow

but I soon find my eyes closed.

The thing about opportunity is if you blink it's gone.

Now the day is on,

it's a race I run.

How much can I get done

before the day breaks

and the sunset takes

the rest if the motivation I've lived on.

The cycle has begun

and new plans are made for upcoming suns

with good intentions to have fun

but every morning I miss the dawn

New music for a snowy weekend

another trend

of bad weather has me trapped in

but these days spin

with the magical feeling of falling in love again

and it feels right like this time I win

So good I can't even put it to words

I just want to soak it in

how beautiful it finally is

to be with you and just exist

everything I thought I needed

and I never want to leave it

He says it's alright

I've got you baby I'll hold you tight

every single night

you don't have to be afraid this time

if you lose your sight dont pay it no mind

I'd paint the sunset for you in touch

the weight of the world will never be too much

love has become an unstoppable rush

of everything I ever needed coming at once

and suddenly everything is different

I don't know how I didnt see it

Fingertips crossing skin like braille.

Searching for each other under the covers

knowing that real love never fails.

Your body is a map

you're breath the wind that I sail.

You're hair is the ocean I get lost in sometimes

you're eyes are the universe

and the reason I dont want to close mine.

The night is ours but you are also the sunlight

we are magicians

creating a new way of life

this is paradise

anywhere you are as long as it's by my side

when two are one and we eclipse each other

the world stands and watches