Perfection is such a fickle thing
So relative, a new normal
Tell me why you like yourself and I can’t provide an answer,
Look for things in me I don’t shove away in a drawer, come up with words like
Because I am not afraid of so many brave things but I am terrified of others
She’s always a woman,
Shades of good and bad
Imperfectly beautiful in her way
I walk a high wire of letting myself be human.
tonight i am not scared to grow up
for a long time,
i was afraid to grow up.
that just as the grass and the sunflowers and the cattails grow,
strong and tall and beautiful
So do I.
How did it get so late.
The lights are burning on the fire escape.
A new day is wrapped in the soft darkness of the dawn.
My tree, my roots are moving lazy,
Matched to the winter whisper of snow.
It is so late for me to know I fear morning.
Thoughts on a January Friday
There is fear in the air today.
If that fear is a bad thing.
Only when one is scared can one be brave,
Change comes on the wind and I refuse to break.
Charted territory is only such because someone thrust into the unknown to make the map.
I will not let this fear take me.
I will be scared, I will let it make me strong.
I can face this thing that comes along.