It took me over twenty five years to learn
how to keep my head up high when I walk down the street.
My kneecaps are not my destination, I do not need to look to them.
Now no one can say I did not know what I was walking into.
When the weather breaks,
and it will break,
I’ll shake with the blessed thunder.
I open my heart every morning to the sound of
My shoulder blades want to meet,
like my lips want to meet
tea with one sugar and a splash of milk.
Something in my chest
sings like beating her beak on the bars.
I will remember your hands between
soothing the distance,
and how my magpie heart sang
against the bars of yours.
Like the ocean into the moat of a sandcastle
I don’t mean for it to crumble.
I’ll carry it within me and other things will be built here.
I no longer stretch myself
like I stretch into
downward facing dog on the days everything hurts.
I extend my arms onto the floor and pretend
this never looked like begging.
I will curl around myself
like the tail of a cat.
Eventually I’ll roar,
eventually I’ll shake and keep moving forward.