Poetry

The Man I Married

 The man I love supports my dreams.

The man I married made me feel guilty for having them.

 

The man I love thinks of me often.

The man I married thought only of himself.

 

The man I love has hobbies we can share.

The man I married drank for sport.

 

 The man I love is on my team.

The man I married forsook me.

 

The man I love has everything going for him.

The man I married squandered his potential.

 

 The man I love never speaks a negative word.

The man I married never said anything positive.

 

The man I love is proud of me.

The man I married was threatened by me.

 

The man I love has my heart.

The man I married has an empty house.

To Be a Woman

To Be a Woman

 

 

How great it is to celebrate being a woman!

 

Strong, courageous, and powerful

 

No creature is more mysterious,

 

No man more capable.

 

She is resourceful and determined,

 

A steadfast, caring friend

 

And loyal confidant.

 

A nurturer, teacher, and enforcer,

 

She balances many hats,

 

And transitions between them with grace and ease.

 

Is there really any nobler thing to be?

I Cried

 

I cried

At the thought of all the women

Who know what I’ve been through

And those who continue to live it.

I cried

At the notion that so many men

Could commit such heinous acts

Toward women they were supposed to love

And promised to protect.

I cried

At the idea of women

Being stripped of their identities

And made to feel worthless

Beaten, bruised, and worse…

I wept

Because their pain is mine.

I know the ache in the depths of their souls.

Angels

Angels

When God gave man free will,

She knew the world would be filled

With heartache and suffering.

So she sent us angels to help ease the pain.

To carry us when our wills are weak

And our minds and bodies are weary.

Not only angels from the heavens,

But those here on earth

Who find their way into our lives and hearts.

When we happen to need them most

They pick us up, wipe our tears,

And remind us who we are and where we are going.

So it is at our toughest moments

That we come to realize how truly blessed we are,

And that even the darkest clouds have a bright silver lining.

Why Me?

Some people ask “Why me?”

I say “Why not me?”

Why shouldn’t I achieve my dreams?

What is holding me back, really?

If other people can achieve success and happiness,

Why not me?

I am capable of creating opportunities.

I am resourceful and committed.

I am no less deserving or able bodied.

Why not me?

What do I have to lose other than fear?

The Revolt

A day finally came

When something changed in me,

My cup was overflowing

And there was no going back.

I could not sit silent any longer

While great injuries were hurled upon me.

So I stood up,

And refused to be knocked down.

The response was swift and violent,

But I was free-

Free to do as I pleased,

Free from guilt and ridicule,

Free to pursue my dreams,

Free to love myself.

Potholes

Potholes

 

Life after trauma is like navigating a long, winding road

With your vision obscured by a blindfold

 

After spring melts the winter’s snow

And reveals the damage to the streets below.

 

People zip past on their way here and there

While you crawl at a grinding pace, paralyzed with fear.

 

Unable to foresee what dangers lie ahead,

You view the world with trepidation and dread.

 

Even when familiar streets become easier to navigate,

The thought of new routes and challenges keeps you awake.

 

Every pothole that sets you back

Makes you feel your life will never be on track.

 

You’re moving nowhere in a hurry,

And it makes you want to scream in fury.

 

All the while people passing by

Without the slightest comprehension why

 

You’re having such a difficult time

When everything to them seems just fine.

 

How could they possibly comprehend

When nothing like that ever happened to them?

 

They could never understand the constant dread

Of wondering what hazard could lie ahead.

 

I Write

I am not a master of metaphor.

I cannot paint grand illusions with words,

And I have no great wisdom

Of the secrets of the universe,

But I still write.

I write for myself,

To ease my soul and quiet my mind

Because there are words inside me

That are burning to get out.

I write because I can

Because I have a voice,

Because I have things to say,

And things to share.