I want to self publish some poetry.

I'm a peculiar one for sure.

I'm ready.

Every day I feel more resolute, but not in a stubborn way.

ready.

bubbling

I know you have a little life in you yet,

I know you have a lot of strength left

days like these I feel every ounce of my body.

when people ask me how many siblings I have, I usually say two, and a brother in law. but I need to say three. if I die early, I still want to be recognized as a sister.

three.

more and more, the mention of his name leaves my heart aching. I don't want to pretend he wasn't.

wishing I knew what he liked, his smell, what he would have been like, what kind of man.

I should be crying but I just can't let it show

I should be hoping but I can't stop thinking.

one tiny bit of information leaves me scrambling to make connections, something to pull us together. to prove my love, to justify it, to justify my longing.

my heart makes bubbles,

soon to boil over.

I want to use his name,

so we don't forget him.

so we don't stop saying his name.

so we don't stop thinking about him.

what a day to save a dime

so we don't pretend.

talking babies brings him up.

in my head he is a baby brother

though nine years older.

always a baby, when our parents knew him well.

sometimes I wonder if there is some girl somewhere

wondering if he is.

will she marry someone else?

sometimes I realize the silliness of that idea.

but I think when someone is already Home

you think sillies sometimes,

and it's ok.

how can I miss someone so much having never met him?

and be so happy,

and still it bubbles in the background.

what a day to begin breathing...

{lyrics from Greg Laswell, "This Woman's Work" and "What a Day"}

two tragic things

too sensitive for words.

a tragic june.

you can’t let it have you

you can’t let it see.

how can your heart be torn

and the trees stay so still?

hold the sun in a photograph

wilted flowers steady in a vase

remembering the days we were little.

you can’t let it take you.

stand firm, my friend.

the sun does you no justice.

so many somewheres you are loved.

I am also a person.

I have wants and dreams.

I have passions and loves.

just like you.

just like the managers.

just like the customers.

I am also a person.

Apparently, setting fire to things is pretty easy.

(oops)

(that was yesterday)

good day today.

hopefully tomorrow too.

Metaphors and Truths

I am a gazelle.

I am strong.

I am fragile.

I am the stuff of epic stories.

I am lovely.

I am colorful.

I am enraptured.

I am a lioness.

I am lavender, mahogany, cerulean and indigo.

I am a wildflower, wildgrass.

I am an artist.

I am a waltz.

Some metaphorically and some literally, I am these things.

"You do not have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body." -C.S. Lewis

And tired, of course. Because this world is empty. And I have been ignoring the only One who can fix it.