I am all things.

I am the rain

on your brow

The quencher

for your thirst.

I am the lover

who tastes your skin

and absorbs your touch.

I am the mother

who soothes your brow

and holds you

softly

to her breast.

I am the beloved

of the intriguing man

who fills my life

with happiness and joy.

I am the laughter

and bliss infused

in your soul,

seen through your eyes.

I am the friend

who doesn’t breath

your hidden secrets

and quiets your angst

with lips

on your forehead.

I am the person

who ignores

those that I don’t choose

to have in my life,

picking and culling

those that enhance

my existence.

I am the person

who finds the best

in everyone,

polishing and

varnishing it

to a sheen

reflecting my love

in their image.

I am innocence

and sensuality

entwined.

I am the person

who loves knowledge

drinking it in gulps

until satiated.

I am the person who

opens arms wide

to culture and art

who wants to write

and create

an embroidered existence

full of love and hope

and giving.

One who opens arms

to all the hues,

echoes your light

and shines on her own.

Sometimes 

I wonder

if even I know

the real me. 

For I am not all

that I pretend

to be. 

I speak of

grace and quote

philosophy. 

I admire beauty

in nature and

and marvel

at the creatures

that I see. 

I am glad

to do good

or at least

minimise the bad

but close off

the risk of

too much

empathy. 

And at a switch

I turn off

the better me.

For a sensitive

soul finds

it hard

to smile,

laugh and 

be at be

wholly at ease

in a world 

full of risk

and madness. 

Yes it's true that

poverty and evil

make me sad,

but I have studied

the art of war

and not always

practiced peace. 

Scratch me

and you will

find the beast. 

I'm the little girl next door with the pretty red hair, my moma says I never meet a stranger. I love everybody and everybody loves me!

I am that same little girl sitting on the edge of the couch waitin for my daddy to pick me up for the day because he promised he would, but never did.

I'm the girl who's friends didn't know that in order to help moma pay the bills I "entertained" gentlemen callers, otherwise sometimes my tow younger sisters and I would go hungry.

I'm the girl who has lived and sacrificed my life for everyone else, so they could have a normal life.

I look in the mirror now and see that unconditional love has taken its toll on my health, my body and my beauty. The skin horse was right about that part.

But I'm afraid that now the reflection shows how lonely I've become.

Same sad little girl waiting for daddy to pick me up and love me. Just love me back that's all, why wasn't I lovable enough for any of them?

Yep same little girl.

Freckles and tattoos reflected,

But these do not define me.

Red hair. Scars. All visible on the surface.

Look deeper.

I am more than you see.

I am calm--flowing and tranquil.

I am anger--all teeth and nails and rage.

I am compassionate--all soft words and concern.

I am passion--barely controllable and fiery.

I am sadness--tear stained cheeks and loss.

I am love. I am pain. I am alive.

I am ever-changing.

I am human.

The mirror has a new tenant.

I don't like her much at all.

The lady who used to live there

was much easier to deal with!

-She was always pleasant!

-She was a good mom.

-She got kids to school on time.

-She cooked dinner in the evening.

-She sat at practices and games. She didn't have panic attacks like a psycho

-She didn't fixate on possibilities

-She got to work on time

She had her S H I T • T O G E T H E R

Except maybe she drank too much liquor

•She might've smoked too many cigarettes

•She yelled and argued everyday

•She cried more often than that

•she hated her life

The woman in the mirror now is a problem.

This one is a mess.

A complete fucking mess.

U N R E C O G N I Z A B L E

Except, she still hates herself

S H E ' S • G O N N A • I M P L O D E

That very question used to leave me paralyzed.

"Who am I?"

Despicable is what I used to think of myself. I'd poke and prod the only parts of myself left in tact after a past of bumps and bruises both in and outside of myself.

Who am I? I am that paragraph and so much more.

I am still standing,

Though I've been knocked down.

I am thriving,

Though I've been completely numb.

I am strong,

Though my strength has been tested.

I am beautiful,

Though my past isn't.

I am loved.

The darkest parts of myself have had light shed upon them, they've been seen and accepted along with the light.

This question, it excites me now! Who am I?

I am whole. I am complete.

I am my soul, my mind, and my body.

I'm me.

When I look in the mirror, I see the person I've always wanted to become.

Whenever she looked into the mirror, she saw a paradox, a living contradiction. Faithful yet detached, committed yet relaxed, gentle yet tough, loving everyone yet in love with no one, passionate yet platonic. All she saw was enigma, a confused soul, an unraveled secret. A model of clay fashioned to feel the turmoil of emotions, to encounter the myriad of thoughts, coherent and incoherent alike.

Reflections of a memory

Tattooed upon my face

Here's where she lied

Here's where she stole

Here's where a stranger she embraced

But more ink appears

And covers my skin

Here's where she loved

Here's where she shared

Here's where she took the high road again

The art swirls and combines

And seeps deep down inside

Want to know who I am?

Look in my eyes.

I see a skin

That is not me

I do not see

What I want to see

I see a boy

With unkept hair

And tired eyes,

Who doesn't care

I see a forest

With no trees-

Mariana's Trench

Brought to its knees

I see things that I

Don't want to see

But I am everything

I don't want to be

A petite girl

Trying to stand tall

With glasses

Yet she won't look far

And prominent eyes

But she won't open it fully

And a smile

      So bright, they say

To hide the darkness

With hair that flutters

Tied tightly in a ponytail

She looks in the mirror

And critics every feature

'Why can't I be...'

Eventually, she'll learn that she's uniquely perfect

That she can

Eventually, she'll stand proud as a working woman

Loving every part of herself

And say 'I did.'