Becoming Real
Love poems in a few different shapes and sizes
Becoming RealI try to drop my mask,
but in crowded rooms
it’s glued back to my face.
With friends like you,
I touch my cheek
and feel bare skin.
You don’t pull,
yet when I leave,
the old story unravels.
I emerge.Real, and grateful.
Photo by Annie Spratt, Unsplash For the Love of the Body
A prayer of gratitude to mend a broken relationshipMay I begin by loving my toes, how you balance me.
My ankles, how you allow me to turn away.
My calves, the gift of a good run.
My knees, how you allow me to bend in prayer.
My thighs, oh, the pleasure you’ve given me.
My hips, how you’ve danced for hundreds of hours.
My belly, I’m so sorry I’ve hated you - I was taught to - may it be released.
My breasts, I can finally see your beauty. I release the demand that you be different.
My throat, with love, I allow you to speak.
My shoulders, I forgive you the weight you carry.
My arms, how you cradle those you love.
My hands, thank you, thank you, thank you, for allowing me to write.
My face, I have judged and plucked, and examined and criticized so much
that I almost missed the color of these beautiful eyesThank you for allowing me to see.
Photo by Inge Poelman, Unsplash I Finally Found My Keys
Grief is in my chest,
behind my eyes.
Music is the key
unlocking the stream
of tears.
Anger is in the throat,
raw and hot.
My pen is the key
unlocking the flow
of words.
Joy is beneath the ribs,
the sun at my center.
Laughter is the key
unlocking this beam
of light.
Love is in the skin,
this warmth around me.
Your touch is the key
unlocking its slow lick
of flame.
Photo by Mayur Gala, Unsplash
This kind of fierce coldIces your moustache and beard
Yet can’t freeze your heart
Photo by this fur baby mama Thank you for reading. Thank you for being here. As always, I would love to hear from you.
2. I 🖤it.
"Your touch is the key
unlocking its slow lick
of flame." Lovely poems.