Too Much

Are you upset because you feel that you gave too much, darling?

Too much love and affection, only to end in rejection?

Too much energy and time, too much of your body and mind, did you spend too many of your dimes?

Too many gifts, too many kisses?

You were too much for me

I risked my life for you, with every imposed act of unprotected sex

Your arms were prison bars to me, your body was a wall I couldn’t make fall

Finally free with the help of geography, I set to work separating you from me

I told you so many times that your love was toxic for me

You cared only for yourself, I was an object on your shelf

We both gave up the chance to be with dozens of other lovers

I gave you the best years of my life and you riddled them with strife

I thank you for all of that, even though being trapped in an unhealthy relationship damn near killed me

You were my drinking buddy and my drunk enemy

You never kept the peace for long

A loud grievance about how the world did you wrong was perpetually erupting

Despite the fact that you were a spoiled, silver spoon over-fed blond haired, blue-eyed white American male

Honey, your complaining is still ringing in my ears

You gave me the time of my life, never after

Our friends went out of their way to keep us apart because the damage we caused each other was so painful for them to watch

Our approaches to life are opposite

I ask what I can give

You ask what you can take

No wonder you were so fond of me

You want without end

I could never satisfy you

I am at peace now, and I wish the same for you

I no longer feel torn by my simultaneous love and loathing for you

I feel only grateful to have survived our relationship

It was almost too much

Nothing Wrong

I giggle at the absurdity of my efforts

Why do I try to fit in with people I don’t like?

Like my racist family, or my manipulative patients who mirror in my professional life the horrors of my personal life, recreating the dynamic of my childhood and toxic relationships with exes

I have a habit of keeping myself safe, my survival instinct is strong, so I play along

But basta, ya- enough already

I only wish that their threats of suicide were real

That may sound cold, but that’s how I feel

This script is getting old, I want a new reel

I wonder how they’d fare on a desert island like me

No one to react to their drama, would they sit silently under a tree?

Growing up there was always a crisis at home

How lovely to realize

There is nothing wrong

Liberation is hard-won, yet occurs in an instant

I hope you catch it before you are nonexistent

History

My man says he wants to know my history

I’d rather let it remain a mystery

I’d rather root into the present and grow a vibrant life

Than be blown over by memories of past storms and strife

Battered by hard knocks too soon

I hungered for the elusive silver spoon

How can I tell him about that first burning sting

Of too-soon penile penetration, I was barely fourteen

Of teenage crushes that crushed my heart

To this day I wrestle with heartbreak in the dark

Of older men with erectile dysfunction

I thought I’d moved beyond that at this junction

How can I tell him about the prima donnas

Inexplicably exploding bombs of drama

How can I tell him about the mobster

Who said I was safe because he had a loaded gun in his trunk

If I was so safe, why was he driving drunk?

How can I tell him about the rich man who offered me everything

Except happiness and peace

I’ve dropped men so fast they felt hit by concrete

Don’t come between me and my dreams

I’ve made a lot of mistakes, painful and blistery

Yet I keep moving forward to write my own history

Hands

I used to feel furious

At the injustices committed against me

For the unwelcome fingers

Prodding my small and growing body

Budding puberty awakened in me

The realization that my childhood was criminal

Waves of rage washed over me

I threw off the comfort blanket of religion in an instant

I roamed naked and savage for years

Unsure where to focus my energy

I worshipped money but I was too generous

I worshipped work but didn’t know when to stop

I worshipped knowledge and became a hoarder, slipping on the shifting sands of science

I worshipped men and was disappointed

I smashed hearts and egos on my path

I stumbled into spirituality and awakened the eternal peace in me

I found a humble man who requires that I be humble too

He welcomed me back to the fold, now older and perhaps wiser

I am grateful for the hands

That initially stirred my pot and set my life in motion

New Mantra

I’ve had many mantras during my life

I am

Om shanti

So hum

In, out

Breathe, relax

Be Peace

Gentle flow

Here and now

I am safe

I am loved

Let go

Just be

Enough

Unclench

Amor y paz

Etc etc

The latest, born of caregiver burnout:

Stop giving me things to do

I want to take care of me and not you

Though I still stack up requests like a pile of dirty dishes

And wash each one because I grant wishes

I’m beginning to learn that my deepest magic

Lies in my ability to fulfill my own dreams

Replenishing myself with source

Giving to sustain and nurture myself

My outward giving grows infinitely

Medusa

I’ve got that medusa head

Curls on curls, in your bed

Don’t look into my eyes, I’ll turn you to stone

Then you won’t hear me calling on your phone

I don’t mean to be venomous

It’s just how I am I guess

When the radio asks for a donation, I change the station

My cogitation gets agitated, dancing between play and work, dinner and dessert

I try to chop off the head of an anxious thought, for naught-

More troubled rumination sprouts from the wound

I pray inner peace will resurface soon

Always a breath away

Be Still

Be still my heart

I whisper to the bleeding bird beating itself against the bars of my ribcage

Try as it might, the only escape is through death

When at last this panicked creature the size of my fist may rest

Many a long night has my heart bludgeoned itself through dark hours, sputtering through panic

In the certainty that the journey as we know it will one day end, may my heart know peace now, between systole and diastole

Heart, you fill yourself up only to empty yourself out again

Working tirelessly in service to every cell in my body

I know I have neglected you, as I have neglected the rest of me

Every beat is another opportunity to do better

I humbly dedicate this moment to you

Little Women

A tale of 4 sisters

The first two bulimic and bruised

The eldest succumbed to drug addiction early on

The first three prone to promiscuity

The second smoked and drank

The third lost her voice when the second beat it out of her

She worked as a prostitute because it was easier than saying no

The fourth turned out alright after the third shielded her from the family tradition of abuse

At great expense

The third sister’s body is a bomb ready to explode with all the trauma it holds

Please tread lightly

I am a little woman but I hold enormous potential energy

I am a volcano of anger and I don’t know how to express myself without burning others

So I implode, swallow, drown, melt

Often letting my feelings remain unfelt

But I love to feel and I love to heal

I long to stomp barefoot, curls in the breeze

Take a break from humanity, put my mind at ease

We will seek peace in vain until we embody peace ourselves

Bouncy Ball

Resilient sphere of color

I throw you down but you only bounce back higher

Dancing down the stream
You get caught on rocks and fallen leaves
I free you and follow you down the babbling brook
Your journey is again halted by forest debris
I dislodge you with a stick and you bound onward
Carried effortlessly by the water
I was told that all rivers flow to the ocean
I am determined to travel there with you, to see this through
Then I learn that water sometimes moves underground
Branch still in hand, we are both stuck on land
I didn’t account for this
Years later, I am an adult in a high-pressure profession
Just now pausing after years of running
As if I’ve been chasing a ball down a stream
Bouncing from one goal to the next
I am bewildered by the restless movement which only distanced me from my heart’s desires
In exchange for passing tests, I received more tests
No one ever asked me if I want to be tested
I value serenity and peace, meditation in nature
I was already where I wanted to be
When I was a girl with a rubber ball
Bring me back to that forest stream
I will stand in it
Let the cool water wash over my feet
Bouncy ball by my side
In stillness and simple satisfaction
We will stay

Flame

Your rage strikes my heart like a lightning bolt

Cracking it open and setting it afire
I am at a loss for what to do, so I warm my hands over the embers and wait
To transform, part of me must die
I cannot rush, only trust
How many times can one heart break?
As many times as it takes
To learn the sacred lessons
To consciously unite with the divine
Time and time again
Pain is pain, sensation is sensation
No matter the form or formal education
Lucid dreaming just before waking
I see a sea of broken hearts glowing in the dark
Each a floating lantern offered up
Burning with the same flame