little match girl

she was hardly eighteen, this little girl with no guidance who wistfully wandered into an alley all alone looking for love but lured by men of greedy lust, their lecherousness …

salt in the wound

my world blurs but never goes noir didn’t blossom black until someone deemed darkness necessary twisted boy looking for limp limbs for a girl to turn insensate to push into …

should have known better

i guess she asked for it i guess she should have known better i guess she should have remembered the last time she was alone with a stranger that dissociated …

to the end of an era

1L year a sweltering september in black suits, black turtlenecks c-ptsd, anxiety, depression, and not the greatest attitude a shell of a human sitting in chairs among strangers teeth and …

the wisdom of no escape

you can’t get out now, you’ve been thrust into this wretched wonderful dimension, you are obligated to stay. it hurts and it hurts and you learn and you learn that …

25, part 2

these things i promise you

1. i will forgive generously and often.
2. i will pour soap and hot water over these limbs even when i can barely drag myself from bed.
3. i will eat whole foods and whole pints of ice cream.
4. i will look at the moon and press my root to the earth.
5. i will bleed in abundance without apology.
6. i will love without condition or attachment.
7. i will rest without guilt.
8. i will walk in the forest and take naps under the stars.
9. i will protect my heart from those who cannot revere it.
10. i will wash dishes and sweep floors and get up again and get up again.
11. i am my own universe and you are my universe, too.
12. i am the observer but i must participate.
13. i am safe in the here, right now.
14. i am immune from the pain of judgment if i can only manage not to judge myself.
15. i am resourced enough to always go on, strong enough to keep rising up.
16. i will not shave my legs because you say i should.
17. i will not eat because you say i should.
18. i will not say yes because i feel obligated.
19. i will not betray myself to protect your feelings.
20. i will not live in the grasp of ultimatums.
21. i will not create stories of what other people must think of me.
22. i will not ask anyone’s permission.
23. i will not lie to make anyone happy.
24. i will not starve in hopes of disappearing.
25. i will not close my eyes to injustice, to change, to hardship.

what if we washed each other’s feet?

according to the french woman my healthcare law professor met in a hotel bar in 2009 “the problem with you americans is you forget: you are a society.” voilà, ma …

25

1. You can’t take anyone with you, anyway, I quietly remind myself as the world shifts rapidly around me.
2. Trying to hold on to someone is like grasping at a fistful of sand, I decide, people popping in and out of my life like faint stars in a cloudy night sky that is still somehow beautiful.
3. Aparigraha, I whisper, watching friends fall away like flower petals, returning to whence they came.
4. And so the lesson returns, I realize, these humans cannot be constants.
5. How nourishing! How good for you, darling, I coo at my youngest selves as I feed them kale to put them to sleep, to fill a belly with green, come closer to wholeness.
6. Who is this woman, I wonder, who sits and reads with a cup of warm lemon water at the kitchen table?
7. If it’s attached to a person, it’s a strategy, not a need, I proclaim clearly, because I might need to feel safe but you’re only one road to get there.
8. That is so painful, I assure the broken-hearted third grader who had to sit through a brutal day of online law school.
9. The universe provides, I remember, as abundance and opportunity flows to me with enthusiasm.
10. It’s okay to feel it all, I promise a terrified girl whose brain has just burst open.
11. Your purpose is not to ensure others understand you, I counsel the teenager still invested in the perceptions of others.
12. I love you, because the entire universe conspired to help me find you, I evoke him gently.
13. Long inhale, slow exhale, I instruct my nervous mouth, trepidatious lungs.
14. Remember the shallow can drown you, I prod the one willing to settle.
15. I can love you, without you, I ascertain quietly, harrowed but fierce.
16. The suffering to come can and should be avoided, I reflect with Libby on my lips.
17. She wasn’t for you anyway, I swear with confidence.
18. This little existence is boundless in its sweet contraction, I vow to the girl who loves this little house.
19. Maybe numb isn’t safe after all, I ponder as my eyes remember how to produce tears.
20. I always have enough to meet my needs, I assure the baby terrified of scarcity.
21. You don’t have to punish yourself, I tell my bloated belly after a whole day of not eating.
22. I can take care of us, I swear to the eight-year-old I’m driving to the thrift store for books.
23. Just because you believe it, doesn’t mean it’s true, I advise the thoughts bouncing around an abundant brain.
24. I trust you to trust them, I encourage the wounded parts, reticent to all connection.
25. You don’t always have to be happy, I reveal the truth to my depression.

poems for pandemic holiday sale

Hi friends! I hope you had a blessed and safe Thanksgiving yesterday. I enjoyed some welcome solitude and a beautiful day near the ocean. I wanted to let you know …

poems for pandemic

Hi, friends! Long time, no blog. But I cherish the screenshot of my life this space provides, so here I am again, blogging. I’ve had a strange and busy summer. …