A gentle rhythm
Inhale, exhale, and repeat
Stave off all that’s bad
It’s so hard to start
But the pounding of my feet
And the sweat dripping
Keeps me sane
A gentle rhythm
Inhale, exhale, and repeat
Stave off all that’s bad
It’s so hard to start
But the pounding of my feet
And the sweat dripping
Keeps me sane
Watching her healing
Is terribly frightening
It’s like when a child
Gets close to an edge
You want to snatch them up and
Hug them tight to you
So you’re never scared
But, that’s the problem…you see
Because the healing
Is not about me
She has to heal for herself
All I do is watch
Inevitable.
A word we use
And we overuse
Inevitable
We say; knowing that our friend
(Who’s boyfriend we don’t like, by the way)
Had a stormy break up
It’s never surprising
It’s inevitable
When a perfect movie star
Gives birth to the most perfect baby
Who’s perfect silver spoon lands them
Directly in trouble…
and it’s filmed.
Inevitable.
When the earth makes another trip around the sun
And the morning stretches and the night yawns
And it happens again
And again
Until you’ve seen 10,000 new days.
Except. It’s not. Inevitable
That the clouds will fray at the edges with that shade of pink blush from your mothers fake leather make-up bag
That same shade you’d smear on your finger and pat on your cheek until you’d made a hole in the powder.
And is now inexpertly lighting up the western sky with the same bright intensity as a two year old in her mother’s
Cheap fake leather make-up bag
It’s not inevitable
That the stars will look like that Pearl necklace of your grandmas that night in eighth grade some boy named…
Brandon
Kisses your cheek during the firework show at a theme park.
No.
Because it is not.
Inevitable.
Sometimes in our lives
We need a break from it all
True for children, too
My fourteen year old…
Said she needed a reset
As a parent, it’s hard
Hearing you’re not wanted
But it’s a valid feeling
For a teen to have
Especially when…
So many things are going on
So, she’s at grandmas
With no phone, but lots of love
For her reset.
And as for me?
The waves crash in front of me
Teal and turbulent
Foaming with worry and tousled with love
For my kid who carries so much.
It’s a strange thing
To share your kids with others
But…that’s what divorce is
Two people now split
Learning to share their beloveds
It’s not an easy thing
Blended families are hard
I’ve had to share with two women
(But that’s another story)
And…it’s a strange thing
Also a great one, and I’ll tell you why
Sometimes we’re selfish
We think sharing love means diluting love
Of course it doesn’t
And isn’t it amazing
When so many people want the same thing?
To love
And be loved
By children?