Brand New

She always feels brand new

A puzzle I want to solve 

everyday 

again 

and again

I want to get it right

crack the code

find the combination

But then 

every night

I want her to change it

because 

every day

I want to do it all over 

again

I show her my insecurities 

my eccentricities 

the holes in my heart

One by one

layer after layer

deeper than I have ever been 

brave enough to go

And somehow 

she still sees the good

and I know that I am good

But through the details

of conversations

interpretations

mutual navigation 

the smallest interactions

she helps me see

exactly how

I can be

great 

And still I want

I will always want her

It is the 

second 

most powerful force

that I have ever felt 

in my short life 

thus far 

It pushes up inside me

out through every limb

Every fingertip

Every goosebump

Every breath

A feeling that I love

almost more than anything

It is the creative force

It is what drives me

However 

it is an experience 

that is not to be driven

Experience

is not driven 

it is ridden 

You must let the present 

take the wheel

Sit in the passenger seat

beside it

Stand in it

Lay entwined with it

For driving is dangerous

It is a task 

a job 

an accomplishment

If I am too focused 

on the road ahead

like a good driver should be

then I speed past 

what brought me to this space 

in the first place

The way time slowed down

almost stood still

when I looked into her eyes

The way I could feel the air 

all around me 

when I sat next to her

The way my ears warmed 

from the sweet vibrations 

of her voice

The way my mind 

was finally soft 

with my heart 

The involuntary reaction 

to be tender with her 

was so strong 

that it overtook 

me

Uncontrollably 

That strongest gentle

it is the 

first 

most powerful force

I have ever felt

and it always remains

underneath all the rest

It makes me slow down

exactly as I need to

Fast is the part of me 

that I don't want to be

anymore

I want to bask in my slow motion

A movement I am reminded of

every time I swim

in her deep ocean

With every crashing wave

that washes over me

so completely 

she makes me feel

like I am 

brand new

Nothing to make up for

There is no woman 

who walks this earth

that needs to wear makeup. 

There is no skin that is flawed.

No feature out of place.

Shape and contour

are never less than 

only full of grace.

A woman is.  The.  Most.  Magnificent. 

Of all that is created.

Stress and pain 

may sometimes 

be injected

into the surface of the skin

but even then 

kinetic energy 

transforms

gives way

in the end

to the softness that remains.

A tender heart

always lives underneath.

Open arms 

are ready to enfold you.

Gentle eyes wait

on the inside.

A Soul

holds the power

of ocean waves.

The weight of the world 

can wear anyone away

but it is the change

the journey brings

that pulls the loveliness

out within each she.

The strength of a jaw

next to the wisp of an eyelash.

The soft of a cheek

turning into twisting tendons 

that run down a long neck.

Circles of hair

playing peekaboo 

with spirals of ears.

Silent endless depths 

about which 

pupils speak.

Waltzing circles 

that each pair of lips

glides through 

with involuntary choreography. 

How shameful it is.

What a crime is committed 

when the truth of beauty is distorted 

by the thought that

ANY of it

should ever need 

improvement.

To be covered.

Not seen

in the clearest daylight.

In its fullness, 

its authenticity,

its priceless nakedness, 

In the details of the life being lived.

Sorrow wells up at the thought 

of not knowing by heart 

where all of the skin spots have grown 

over the years 

and exactly how the smile lines 

connect with the crows feet 

when my absolutely, stunningly, gorgeous grandmother

sees me 

and tells me

Every 

Single

Time

that I am beautiful.

I wish for every woman

to know

that joy.

I wish for every woman

to feel

that love.

Maybe then

Every woman would know

that there is nothing 

they need 

to make up for.

In progress, first layer...

Crayons

I am a box of crayons

That is what she said I smelled like

It is not the first comparison 

I've been told that is what I look like

My closet is a rainbow 

There are layers to my being

I am a painter

I have a palette of many colors

Some are vivid and bold

Some pale and soft 

Hues of dark and dense

or earth and clay

All are rich with texture 

The perfect sharpness 

of the unused tips

are so easily softened

as soon as they are pulled

Out of the box

As they are meant to be

Out of the box

Worn and misshapen 

Out of the box

Broken and paper torn 

Out of the box

Eventually naked and unlabeled 

Out of the box

Identified only by 

the cones on our retinas

Eliminating the need for category 

or organization 

All resting together 

in an old coffee can

Being

Chosen by 

Instinct 

Preference

Desire

Willingness

to make a mark 

with the color that comes

from the loveliness 

that calls my name

In its smallest

Purest

Raw

Used

Form

I am learning 

to trust wonder

Like a child 

to take a chance 

on a nameless chroma

To risk the open ended possibility 

of how the scribble that comes from the mystery piece 

may alter the layers that are already on the paper

Risk turns to trust

One crayon at a time

until the pigmented wax

is rubbed away

Creating image after image

until a new box is needed

And I hope 

when that time comes 

I will open them up

pour them all out

undress them from the very beginning 

and throw away the box

Fast Forward

My mind wont shut up

My heart is pleading with it

but the thoughts just keep rolling out

Someone just pushed the fast forward button

on my life

and now the pace of my days

matches the breakneck

of my brain activity

What if I don’t have enough time

it says

I have so much to get done in such a short amount of time

and here you are….writing a poem, dumb ass!

it shouts

What if I make the wrong decision

it whispers

What if I cant go

I already know I cant go

What if she is disappointed in me

What if she needs me

and I am letting her down

What if I cant be there to hold her

What if I cannot bare not being there to hold her

What if I am too much to handle

What if I am too insecure

What if I am too confident

What if I am not interesting

What if I am trying too hard

What if I am annoying

What if I fail

What if I don’t have enough money

What if my truck breaks down

What if the river floods any more and all my stuff floats away

What if I am being ungrateful

What if it is too late

What if they are disappointed in me

What if they don’t understand me

They don’t understand me

I have spent the last 6 months alone

No one knows

I have no witnesses here

Only me

What about me?

They dont ask that question

Its not theirs to ask

Instead

they ask

What are you going to do

What about your future

Where are you going to go

What about a place to stay

What about your career

What about your finances

What about all that you have worked for

What about your reputation

What happens if you don’t have enough time

What happens if you don’t have enough money

What if I make the wrong decisions

What if I am too much to handle

What if I am too insecure

What if I am too confident

What if I am not interesting

What if I am trying too hard

What if I am annoying

What if I fail

What if I don’t have enough money

What if my truck breaks down

What if the river floods any more and all my stuff floats away

What if I am being ungrateful

What if it is too late

What if they are disappointed in me

What if they don’t understand me

What if I cant be with the one who understands me

What about my future

What about a place to stay

What about my career

What about my finances

What if I don’t have enough money

What about all that I have worked for

What about my reputation

Stop

Fuck my reputation

What about me?

I have spent the last 6 months alone

No one knows

I have no witnesses here

Only me

They don’t ask that question

Its not theirs to ask

It is mine

I have so much to get done in such a short amount of time

and here I am….writing a poem

Because I hurt

and it is the only way I know to soothe myself

The only question left to ask is…

what about me

The only person that needs to ask it…

is me

I know

When I was 13

I used to say

‘I know’

all the time

Drove my dad nuts

Maybe it was the eyerolling

or the long sighs

or the tongue smacking

which accompanied it

Coaxing the vein out

in his forehead

He was around my age

when I threw those words around

so carelessly

I now know

what he knew then

That I don't know shit

Certainly didn't when I was 13

and even less now at 38

One of the very few things

that I do know

is that the words

I know

can be two of the most

powerful words

in the English language

I know

can be a declarative statement

Whatever follows

holds the echoing

the ripple

the resonance

of defining who you are

Bringing waves

that wash away who you used to be

I know

can be a curtain

that when drawn aside

reveals what is understood

and what is not

filling the room with light

illuminating details that once hid in cast shadows

I know

can be clarifying

the meaning it claims to hold

is determined

by the difference

between

experience

and lack there of

coming into focus

through the lens of trying something different

Most importantly

I know

can be affectual

full of feeling

and being felt

I know

can be emphatic

locking each other's gaze

with silent nods

and outstretched hands

I know

can be sweetness

held between

the jaws of clenched teeth

and swallowed pride

I know

can be Surrender

the willingness

to let your heart break

under the weight

of what you know

and in the absence

of what you don't

I know

can be

the web

that gets untangled

by patient nimble fingers

waiting for the knots to loosen

tenderly pulling at the strands

silently studying

the woven patterns

to follow the path

back to where it started

I know

can be the thread

the thread that connects us

the thread that sews us

back together

the sutures that crisscross

back and forth

over the edges of our cracks

holding us together

I will hold you

through what you know

Please hold me

through what I don't

For it is only through this holding

that we truly get to know

anything at all

Because the only thing worth knowing

is each other