Day 1:
numb, exhausted…
is this what it feels like
to be catatonic?
rejection, shock, shame
Day 2:
puffy, angry eyes
lost, confused.
air is such a sad thing…
Day 3:
wake up,
remember Day 1.
sigh
try
to hide the rise and fall of my chest
wish that I was not born to cause pain.
count backwards…
listen to the ticking of MY LIFE,
lay in a hammock (yes, this is my nest)
reflect
about how I must have shocked
my mother when she found out
that someday I had plans to breathe.
Inhale the whole stormy, frothing mess I swam through to get here…
rivers pulse through my veins, barrel through others’ expectations…
smashing them
I watch the glass house fall,
inhale the world, pull tail feathers out of the mockingbird’s song…
allow the shell to break
I make a mess,
bless
my own birth
like a stork flying backwards, glide into the hospital window where I lay in a bassinet
pick up the pen…
sign my own signature
Legitimate
In the Lord’s eyes, we are all legitimate
“Thus saith the LORD, thy redeemer, and he that formed thee from the womb, I am the LORD that maketh all things; that stretcheth forth the heavens alone; that spreadeth abroad the earth by myself; (Isaiah 44:24 KJV)
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