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She’s Watching
The most meaningful thing my daughter has ever said to me is, "You're the bravest person I know." Until that moment, I hadn't realized that I was brave at all. This poem is dedicated to my Madz. You are my source of bravery. I love you, for
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Wallflower
I am but a wallflower. Sitting by the wayside, watching life happen. Daydreaming of the day I get to dance. As it sit here, I whither. I become bitter and cold. I hurt and lose reason. When is my turn? Where is my song? The sun stops shining on me. I become fragile. I break. I lose hope. I question my value. Maybe if I were more like this. Perhaps if I were less like that. My eyes glaze over. I forget how to laugh. How to love. To be loved. I welcome the numb. I sit on a shelf. And wait. Wait... Wait..... WAIT! Life will NOT pass me…
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More
You were fine. Just not enough. She's just more. More what? Will she love you more? Feed your soul more? Contribute more? But you love her more. You want her more. You feed her more. But why? What is more? It's not a definitive unit of measurement. It's not a tangible goal. But more is what you seek when you aren't enough. I wish I was more. More confident in my beauty, both inside and out. More resilient to the heartbreak that stays close to me each day. More able to let you go without caring so damn much. More able? I am able. I am able to forgive myself…
