Friend

where there is darkness, you seek hope

where there is division, you spark unity

where there is pain, you share strength

you may be an inspiration to others

but that doesn’t neon blaze from your forehead

it’s not a badge you can flash merrily

or a “get out of jail free” card to chase away demons

sometimes you can’t look your reflection in the eyes

sometimes you despair of ever being a whole self,

of ever being more than a fragmented series of shatter shard moments

sometimes, it feels like you’re drowning in a riot of unsteady emotions

so when you forget

when you’ve lost sight of

your many splendored shades + shadows

radiating through with each blink

i will walk alongside

and remind you

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Beautiful

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He told me i was ugly

so I knew myself beautiful

i wish that applied to only one man in my life

used to think the only way

to ever be whole again

was to set fire to their legacy

burn to charred crust

their tiny, petty cruelties

their thoughts tattooed inside my eyelids

their grimaces of approval

& sharpened malice vowels 

it has taken me far too many 

heartless heartbeats

to realize

i can only erase their fingerprints

inside my pores

if i don’t give them the power

to define me

Colors

Starburst

being a chameleon is hard

skins settling over you

seek to define you

at first

i just tried to blend in

take comfort in

the cold cushion of same

wallflower wildlife

hapless ringmaster

trying vainly to tame

bright jewels of color

seeking to burst forth

to risk it all

paint

sun dappled ochre

vibrant violet streaks

emerald dazzles

calico chaos splatters

on my carefully blank canvas

and emerge, unashamed

for the world to see

Both

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are we oceans or stars?

earth or fire?

clouds or crowns?

sigh skipping breeze

or bold, blustering monsoon?

on the surface

we are urged to

divide,

 divide again

until all that’s left

are labels + shelves

but i say

i’ll be demon and angel both

my flaws are also my strengths

my pain also my joy

so i refuse to choose

i accept my

contrast-checkered coat of arms.

shapeless shades

of red rimmed judgment

no longer shackle me to

the tainted well of my inhibitions

+ deserted back alleys of doubts

now

i stand free

Storm

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when did

drifting

become so beautiful?

ever before, life’s unseen ringmaster

trained me to run between

unpredictable clouds,

dodging

striating sharp-stricken lightning

dogging at my footsteps & futures

barking, screaming,

ravenous.

but.

since

i decided

to own my skin, my soul,

myself

in all colors, errors + weathers

the tempest has changed tempo

now i ride alongside,

no longer swallowed.

i know, now

how to reach into

the howling drumbeats of chaos

and grab new-hatched rainbows,

storm-forge my own tarnished silver linings,

even if broken, abused fingers

are too numb to feel them

they unspool from

somewhere

half-forgotten inside me

i seize hold of my wonder

and cast it out into the world

Shape

Sunset over Washington Terrace

it used to be

OK shoe,

Drop

take a bite out of this bliss

because

in the

 whirling swirling

spiral cycles of life,

beats change as often as

frantic fiddles in the hands of mercurial masters

but

but

somehow things are different,

now

maybe i

am different now

perhaps power

dances under my fingertips

instead of making me it’s reluctant puppet

Raw

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i am not who you see

the person bending out of your pupils

unfolds with grace and majesty

but i,

i lie here flushed and soulbared

draped in disillusionment

my clunky sobs stampede through

too thick air

lips dance in an unfamiliar grin

that feels wrong

even as i laugh at your awful jokes

right now,

i want to be anyone else

but you look unflinching at

some beautiful, powerful me

and i’m caught

like a semi-reluctant butterfly

trapped in your gaze

waiting for you to see

i’m actually a moth

The Ripening (Revisited)

This is a poem I wrote a long, long time ago– but it still holds true today. A little bit for all of us, maybe? 

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i miss the me
that doesn’t exist yet.

the me that doesn’t ever feel
hollow or tarnished,
but new-minted
brassy with happiness.

i can feel her roots,
burrowed too deep
for conscious thought or recognition.

outside the cocoon,
a spirit adrift,
circling warily around my potential

idly watching
the twisted not-quite-right person
struggle to bloom.

Belief

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i thought it would feel

close&crystalline

instead

it’s a far away

wonky weird amber

pulsing slowly against

sudden sweet goosebumps

as painful as they are pure

these noble sentinels

standing

up

reaching out to touch

this curious new feeling

settling comfortably

inside my mind

nudging aside scars

most only half-healed

mouths agape,

they retreat with deferential nods

+ make room for the

mysteriously edged

awe-inspiring newcomer

Be

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who am i?

said the face to the mirror

eyes glinting,

shuttered lids

blinking,

bracing

against the hopeful

agony of anticipation.

have i triumphantly

shed the skin of my past,

shucked off

page yellowed demons

until they slink sullenly off

for a smoke break?

the more honest question

would probably be

do i want to know

the answer?

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