Pain over pleasure
My jaw aches
From clenching
But I’d rather bleed
Than cry
It takes a little while
to remember exactly
where and how you fit.
The hole you left behind has closed
just a bit–
as the others adapt to your absence.
(If you hadn’t come back
your hole would close entirely
at some point)
but you squeeze back in
and stretch it out
until you slot into place.
(You will always return)
A little time goes by,
then it feels like you never left,
then it’s time to leave again.
The hole you leave behind
starts to close
until you return
to delay the inevitable
a little longer.
Validation arrives when you least expect it;
it arrives at a moment when you’re figuring simple math
it arrives at a moment when you are calm
it arrives quietly in your chest, in your heart
it arrives beyond you and between two other people spitting passive aggressive remarks at each other.
Validation arrives when you are not caught in the crosshairs;
it arrives in your silence as you wait for others to notice
it arrives in others’ inaction that matches the nothingness they gave you
it arrives next to you and with all the others in the room who
refuse to address what you stamped and sent ages ago.
Validation manifests long after the original postmark,
and you greet it with a large smile, a deep exhale, and an appreciation for its arrival.
I
left
their church—
the Southern
Baptist Convention—
when I was a mere teenage girl.
When some big ole boy scoffed at me.
You play guitar just like a man.
At church camp, no less.
I strummed “Let
There Be
Peace
on
Earth.”
He
added,
“The Chinese
will go straight to hell.”
Baffled over what possible
link to China my guitar style
suggested, I launched
into the
chorus
line,
“And
let
it
begin
with me!” He
backed away, cheeks red.
My guitar teacher shared this faith.
She’d raised her own son in that church
of angry boys who’d
challenge skill
in a
girl
like
me.
Who
grow to
pound pulpits,
“us against other”
spit spraying in the name of God.
In the name of all that is Good,
I say unto them,
“Make your own
KoolAid.
Teach
your
own
kids
Bible
School, chapter
and verse. Maybe then
you’ll learn something about leaders,
how they teach by example.
Will you then judge your
sisters and
mothers
as
less?”
Your most tender soul, one said.
Worthy of the happiness
we created, said the other.
When they choked up
during their vows,
complete stillness
among the crowd. Take all
the time you need
the stillness said. We understand.
We understand this declaration
before friends and family.
Well, chosen family. No relatives here –
one family dead, the other
willing to have dinner
on Sundays by now, but not
to condone the marriage.
They missed the most
buoyant wedding, a diverse lot
of over a hundred people
to celebrate and affirm this joining.
Smiles and tears gathered
under one glorious shade tree
wide enough to embrace us all.
**Inspired by Pam Campbell’s American Sentence obsession!**
Fire alarms the coyotes’ siren deep in the ravine
A common weed
Says the herbalist.
Yet Homer tells
In the Iliad of
Achilles healing wounds
With it.
The yellow bloom in
My garden
Reminds me of a
Fossil of coral from
The Ordivician Period,
Four hundred and fifty million years ago.
It speaks volumes
Of history,
Both common and
Legendary, to be
Seen and honored in
A common weed.
I can’t wait for this high anymore,
I don’t even want it.
I’ve had it before.
I hit it so hard.
Definitely twice,
And I think one more time,
God was it euphoric,
I could dance around the kitchen
Without an ache in my toes.
I slept like a
Baby,
And smiled until my cheeks
Bruised.
But the come down
Destroyed me.
I’m talking absolutely obliterated,
Crushed down into a mere pulp.
I pieced myself back together–
Once,
But it was way too soon.
The glue hadn’t dried,
So naturally, nothing stayed put.
And after having to clean up
That mess
And realizing some things break
And aren’t meant to be fixed,
I sit there,
Stone cold sober,
And I pick up the shards of me
One by one,
Shredding each and every
Fingertip.
I leisurely like to think about,
Just how good
It felt to be suffocated by arms
You loved too much.
And that sting in my chest
Thrived,
Even knowing those arms
Did not hold me the way
Mine held his.
And then I think about me now,
Sitting here remembering
How good that it
Felt,
And just how sad I am
Now.
