“that’s not the way you came
into this world,”
my mother laughs
as I gracefully twirl and
leap about the kitchen.
And I think, no.
I came into this world kicking
and screaming
after hours of labor.
And kicking and screaming
is how I plan to leave.
I plan to grow old, kicking
and screaming
I plan to dance in the kitchen
‘til I’m 85
and run barefoot in the park
when I’m 90.
sprawl my crayons
across the floor,
and color outside the lines,
and I shall wear my slip
to a party if I please.
I shall sing in the shower,
and sing in my garden,
and sing as I skip
down the street.
Yes, kicking and screaming,
that’s how you met me,
and that’s how I’ll say
my good byes.
pour me a glass of blue
seeping into midnight black
as the air gets colder around me
murmuring across the table
drifting into love with you
as life gets warmer within me
stars peek shyly from the clouds
glittering not half so bright as your eyes
truth falls slowly from my mouth
conjured to light by a magic I recognize
and the sun begins to rise
as I find I cannot disguise this anymore
dance through night with you
twirling into morning light
as the east grows brighter despite me
bringing joy into the day
and I know now life is new
growing fresh as this feeling inside me
sun peeks sleepily from the clouds
shining not half so bright as your eyes
truth falls slowly from my mouth
conjured to light by a magic I recognize
and love begins to rise
as I find I cannot disguise this anymore
I STAND.
at the moment
I stand alone, confused,
and hurt,
but still, I STAND.
I stand beyond you
not reaching,
not yearning,
not needing,
not willing to change myself
at your every whim
or throw myself inside-out at you.
I am who I am,
no less.