Diplomacy! Wicked gift!
I want to know if Imagined Me has started being perfect yet-
Your little pet that I should really care less about, for she is not mine.
I do inform, like that’s a boundary.Read More »
Tag: writing
they provide the ride
When you’re twelve and seek escape from family, they provide the ride,Read More »
Lessons on How to Be Okay
You, my first love with your padding to my room to draw
a mural with me, with my three-years-behind-yours fine motor skills.
Green easel- hodgepodge I never erased.
You, with your independence, hero-power, and readiness,
senior trips and friends I always joined but never made.
“How was it letting the class freak be on top?”Read More »
Rocks
I feel the cold stone beneath my toes,
and I feel I exist outside of me,
on the surface of this body they’ll label
Lydia and point to once I’m dead.
My eyes close. I stare at my eyelids,
and now I feel I’m inside of me—
Oh, help! Please, someone,
get me out!
I inside and outside of me…
Is me my body? Then who am I?
Me might be nothing, for that’s what I see
every single time I blink.Read More »
The Welcoming
Losing skin cells,
growing more-
part of daily human life.
I charge toward your heart from your outer layer,
constantly fearing
being shed,
running into nothing but
another, another
layer of skin.
I stood
finally-Read More »
Reunion
My body talks. Does yours speak the same language?
I tell mine to stay silent just in case.
I do not sit in your chair, or rest my head
on your leg, or let you stroke my hair.
I do not tip my face
onto your cheek:
Read More »
Ivory
When the sun dried up the moss, and the sea washed over it,
a thick, pale, green milk pooled into your eyes,
and your olive, tan skin glows, and your wispy hair shines,
and you’re too pretty to be any older than a child,
but you didn’t stay a child long anyways, did you?
And when you grow up fast, do you grow much at all?
You are a cowering six feet tall!
But you’re too bold to remain so shy,Read More »
Stained Glass
Whisper words like virgin and watch
as images dance through their minds
of white satin gloves,
of innocent deer,
of crystal clear glass.
Write it on my i.d. or social,
but leave it off my nametag, please,Read More »
If only he’d screamed, cried, or lamented
I’m suddenly disturbed by the awareness that
everybody feels
sadness.
I’m suddenly feeling unsettled aboutRead More »
Rocking Chair
You don’t want to lie down, but it’s not time to run,
so you arch, throw yourself, scream, dive, and you hate me.
I bring you to myself and calm your body down.
You tire out then wake slightly, force some side-eye
like you trust me, and I slide you to your bed
as seamlessly as I can, deep-breathing in your ear
until you’re long-lost. You sleep long enough to little more
than recover, sit up in your bed and smile, start whining for me.
I say, “Come here,” and you wedge between my thighs,
contentedly rest your head on my leg, and you need me.
I pat your back, so you switch your face to my stomach.
You’ve forgiven me. Oh, you see your twin has the doll you like,
so you squeak, forget me. You go out to the world,
glance backwards at me, loving me, and carry on.
Alphabet Ravine 