Tag: poetry

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.


  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.