I tell myself

to fear myself

to fear my belief in myself

to distrust my intuition

despite the fact that every time I trust my intuition wholeheartedly,

it serves me well.

I may be naive

Or perhaps I am merely

self-preserving my heart

from breaking.

But naivety is unlikely considering the strange breadth of experiences I’ve been exposed to for whatever reason.

I want to believe

that

deep down

we each have good intentions for one another.

I cannot speak for those in the past,

nor folks I never met.

Nor for folks I have met, for that matter.

But 99.99% of people I’ve met haven’t hurt me intentionally,

as far as I can tell.

At worst, I misunderstood meanings or intentions. Either theirs or my own.

It’s possible for me to misunderstand my own intentions.

People are confusing

I am confusing.

But I’ve felt nothing but love and loneliness radiating from every angry face.

I have nothing to fear.

I am but a piece of a puzzle,

begging you to help me find where I fit,

when I should probably just be deciding on my own place.

I suppose that is my downfall:

that I don’t know where I’m most needed.

Left to my own devices,

I whither under the infinite possibilities.

I’d rather be told, “Vacuum this floor at 3:00 PM,”

than, “It would be nice if things were cleaner.”

But the thing is, it is nobody’s responsibility but my own to change the things I want changed.

So If I want to enact change, I need to assign specific responsibilities to myself and others.

If I see a problem, it is my responsibility to solve it.

I need to take ownership of the flaws in my life and ask for help when necessary.

If I want something done, I do it myself or accept that it may or may not get done.

That is the choice I must make on the regular.

I sometimes feel powerful.

but sometimes feel weak

like a zoo land puppet

but my Jekyll is sad and lonely, limbs so weak and tired

and my Hyde is manic love, able to move mountains with actions and words

dancing through life

or perhaps I have the names confused

or perhaps they’re simply fusing

to unify is a necessity if we want joy in our lives.

I spend a lot of time in thought

I talk a lot

People seem to think I talk too much

but I talk so much because I struggle to express my meaning

English is just one of my first languages.

I don’t know what I am afraid of

the fear feels deep and buried

there’s something different about it

it’s a fear I never experienced fore

like when I first found out I was pregnant

a flash of existential dread and confusion

but that time, it was blended with a tangled web of joy

now I just feel confused

facing the light

and blinded

Not ready for the image to clarify

because I’m afraid to look in the mirror

because the mirror is old and cracked

pieces are missing and lost to the ages

so perhaps, looking into (or stepping through) the mirror is unnecessary.

Perhaps that is the phantom’s lesson: the music of the night lives there, but that space is cold and lonely

Meaning is the solvent of life

and yet we struggle with it perpetually

I write and you interpret

you read and I pray that you hear the heart of my heart

and not get carried away by idle fancies and distractions from the core of my message:

love your brother

Keep trying to communicate

before you discount me and my ideas

tell me to my face what you think of me

and I will attempt to challenge such beliefs

I am prepared to debate

on my honour

perhaps I am disorganized and tired

I am the mother of a 1-year-old

that is normal and to be expected

I am grouchier than usual

but good lord the expectations

drip drip drip drip

down like that song from that kid’s movie that Lin Manuel Miranda wrote

god forbid I have a bad day

or else everyone else melts and acts unable to function.

And maybe that’s fair

because I’ve overburdened myself, I haven’t given anyone else the chance to try to help

and I take on more and more

Piling more expectations on myself

As if that will help

As if that will help me feel more grounded

I don’t want to fly away

I just want an outlet for my unusual soul

I want space alone at night to sing

and weep and write

I want to get high sometimes or have a glass of wine

and not be afraid to write about it

I don’t want to see that flick of judgement in another human’s eyes

We are each others’ mirror

 

And so I am trying my best

to reflect love whenever I can

and hope to see it reflected back sometimes

but it’s not always easy

sometimes I want to stare into the void where nobody can see my heart in my eyes

my mask is thick but my eyes reveal

how embarrassed I am all the time

by my dumb tender heart

my pure intentions

being put to the test over and over

instead of just accepted as fact…

why would I lie about love?

For what? money? attention? Those are mere shadows of the power of love

which I have felt and would not want to replace with anything lesser.

I sincerely

truly really

wish the best for you

and your kin

as this season draws near

I love you

I mean it

stay good and safe out there y’all.

love always.