Posted in New Work, Poetry, Uncategorized

Ashes of the Phoenix

No matter where I go,

I’m asked to “tone it down,”

and then asked why I’m “lookin’ so mean”

when my smile rests in a perpetual frown.

My loquacious words and awkward sentences

never find their place…

not in public, or shared areas,

not even in my own safe, sacred space.

I have to change, an emotional carousel;

the “right” reaction always just out of range

signals crossed, just slightly, like a bad battery cell.

My regular outbursts of self-expression

interspersed with brightly colored f-bombs

and enthusiastically mismatched clothing and eclection

should not be reason for anyone to try

to quiet the way I live out loud –

Just as the clouds peacefully coexist in the vastness of sky,

so too do I want to be accepted in a world

that’s too proud.

We are encouraged to follow our hearts,

chase our dreams, accomplish goals –

do our parts.

We’re reminded to embrace who we are,

who we were or could’ve been,

who we be and who we will be.

I try, and in doing so, am “too much,”

dare I be so bold.

R.I.P. to all the pieces of me

that inadvertently die

when I squelch even more of my desire to be.

To avoid offending someone else,

I rearrange and release more pieces of myself…

The loss poignant like a phoenix’s death –

new fragments rising from the ashes

the previous body left.

And even no matter how far “downed” the tone gets –

No matter how docile I try to appear,

I still feel unwelcome in most spaces –

And maybe also, I’m just afraid

that one day someone will speak to me

as though they were listening

instead of only waiting to hear.

Author:

35. Wife and mom of 3. Writer. Zentrovert. Aspiring Engineer. Resident Badass.

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