Dreamer

Tumble in the warm grass of your embrace

Rub the sunshine on my face,

hear my bellowing call for grace

and forgiveness to you.

Below all the rumbling of my skin

i still feel the warmth within –

Don’t leave me in his shoes.

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Ask Me Why I Loved You

Ask me why I loved you

and I will say a million things;

the way you brushed your teeth

to the way you were angry.

Ask me why I loved you

and I’ll think of all the ways,

you made me fall in love

each and every single day.

Ask me why I loved you

and I won’t mention all the nights

we pushed and pulled each other’s character into plight.

Ask me how I loved you when you pushed your pain on me,

like I should carry it from place to place carefree.

Ask me why I stayed

and I’ll let you in again.

I’ve always had a weakness

for the boy you’ve always been.

Ask me why I loved you

and in that moment I will say,

I couldn’t have loved you more

than the moment I walked away.

Meditation

I stare among the women in crossed-legged seated postures and wonder if I’ll ever get there. Smiles strung along their faces. They’ve made it. They have found some place to call home. They pull love and compassion from places I’ve never heard of; from some chakra of the month. I still pull my tears back. The only colorful line up are my excel spreadsheets during fundraising campaigns and no one seems to care how long I haven’t been smiling. Breathe. Count to three. Allow the inner critic to wash away. I need more inner goddess, that’s for sure. Do you get that from kombucha? Taking pictures in a yoga pose? Can you see me now? Calling for help. Breathe. Maybe I’m just jealous of all the love they seem to receive. An internal healing from tailbone to sun salutations. I wish there was a bandaid big enough to cover the wounds I have. The sands of time have only stung like salt ripe on my flesh. “Moving forward” was silly advice. I now exhale my problems onto the next person. Deep, cursed excerpts of my ode to humanity and love and family and relationships and him and… breathe. I guess maybe I am jealous of those smiles stretched across their faces. And maybe… just maybe, I’ll find my own love in my crossed-legged meditation too.

Days like These

Days like these

We worship.

We worship it,

Not for its perfection,

But for all the moments we wish we could have taken back.

For all the words we should have inhaled instead of spewed.

Days like these

We sit on our thrones alone

Because power comes at a mighty lonely price.

We practice our goodness but never quite get to genuine.

It’s days like these that remind us where we are.

Who has come before us

And how we will pave the way for the others.

Days that are long,
Hard,

And slow.

But worth every hustling minute.

We will remember the glory of these days

Not for its perfection

But for its purity.