Funeral

To the young amongst me, I hope you are at my funeral

That is to say, I hope you outlive me and that I am worthy of being missed

I haven’t been a saint at all times but I was able to rein in my crazy before committing too heinous a crime

When homicidal or suicidal thoughts drop by to visit, I teach them how to meditate

I’ve solved problems creatively, which is to say, illegally

For the record, if I had a written record of my life I would burn it in order to boil a pot of tears for tea

I like a little salt on my sweet

Swarthy Song

Though we may not know which way to go or much of anything

As long as there is wind to blow, we’ve got a song to sing

We’re salty as the sea and we have hearts that bloom like swords

So raise ye up, lift ye cup, and sing another chord

Though we may disagree when we do not see eye to eye

Our motley crew accepts our fate that the end may be nigh

Though we are not wealthy men, our ship gives room and board

For us to life in infamy, tis plenty ‘nough reward

Field

In the field beyond words

Our spirits meet

I’m not too blinded by the light to see your energy and delight in the way the wildflowers sway with us

Physically, I am bound in this life

In spirit, I am boundless

That field beyond words is our playground, filled with passion and joy, gratitude and care

It is easy for relationships to seem perfect when they aren’t actually happening

I wonder if you have a sense of my spirit’s desire to bond with yours

I used to think all beings were one spirit, but it is more fun to flirt with another than with self

I used to take for granted that a spirit bond was enough, then I lost the one I loved

His absence taught me the importance of being there, of showing up

I stand here in the field with so much love to share

Hunger

I used to not have enough food

So I stole food

Foraging through the trash for stale, cold food

I pushed through

Now I shop at Whole Foods

Actually I pay someone else to do it for me, because my time is worth more than when I worked as a whore

I dredged myself up from the bottom, headed to the top even when I didn’t know it

Sometimes it seemed I was going backwards, yet I kept moving forward

Sweet Tooth

I’ve got a sweet tooth for untruths I speak when I think he is too bitter to handle new answers to old questions.

Part of me doesn’t care what he thinks of me because I’d be better off without him, but I don’t want him to bring the full weight of religious shame crashing down on my body.

Why do I find the forest more sacred than any church?

In nature, I can be a woman.

I try to maintain a semblance of integrity amidst the corrosivity of saccharine lies

Like going to bed without brushing my teeth after dessert, I know this is only wishful thinking.

What am I to do when he prods me with questions about my life that are none of his business?

I’ve already overshared and over cared.

Every time I repeat a lie to him because he is demanding that I relive painful experiences out loud against my will, it makes it harder to tell the truth.

He doesn’t treat me right. Even on our best days, he makes me pay for everything and do all the work to take care of him, so what do I owe him?

He has not demonstrated himself to be worthy of knowing my most personal memories, given his previous reactions.

Perhaps it is true that the truth will set me free, however I am too terrified to change my habits tonight.

Paradoxically, while I have not yet changed the habit of wrapping myself up in a protective cocoon of lies, I have changed the pattern of no longer flooding my body with sugar, which is a victory.

Super Moon

I ran outside to see the super moon

My eyes caught only fire flies, and that’s when I realized

Like the moon, we are all mirrors for the sun, specks of stardust

I ran outside holding withered roses, cursing the thorns in my haste

That is when I tasted the truth that my lips don’t only produce diamonds and flowers, but toads and vipers too

I was only kidding myself that just because I act selfless, doesn’t mean I don’t have selfish desires

Narcissism is the sharpest edge of the empathic knife with which I forge through life

If I didn’t possess any of those qualities, how could I have attracted those types to me?

With renewed gratitude, I love my humble husband

The only thing he fills my hands with are his own, and that is enough

After the last dish was washed I ran outside, overwhelmed with anger and grief for what I cannot undo

I struck a chair pose, sitting into my discomfort until my thighs burned and my mind emptied and my excess energy evaporated upward, toward the super moon

The Hammer

I stepped out in front of the hammer

Bracing myself for the blow

Determined to stand strong

I still do this all day long

I hold steady as days turn into years

Salty cynicism is all that remains of my tears

Though my current life depends on my unbreakability

I know that if I yielded, I would finally start really living

I see the wild, vibrant, beautiful life force of my vulnerability

Roaring rivers of pure glacial truth flow below the surface of my frozen facade

I stare at the hammer and dare it to hit me one more time