Do not wad your spirit up in a crumpled ball to be tucked away or discarded. Spread out your body to relish the wrinkles of wisdom topped off with your star shine luminosity. Smooth back the night to raise the powerful roots that feed your soul with your destiny.

You weren’t meant to shy away from your glory, you were born to glitter wildly, bubble fruitfully, and bloom in magnificence like those before you. There are no boundaries beneath your feet, only your path.

You were meant to be loud; to take up the space stolen from you by those who fear your wealth of experience and wisdom. They use old, crone, bitch, or other words to describe those who embrace their true nature with delighted abandon. Those are words that mean survivor, wise, and assertive. Those words are meant to keep you small, withered, starving for approval. You own their power.

You do not require permission to explode with color, dance joyfully wherever/whenever you please, or to laugh until your eyes leak. You were born for this. I can’t wait to be a wild woman with you!

I catch glimpses of you

A shoulder, a curl, a breath too late

Your voice, your giggle, your words are out of phase

Caught between then and now

The period of absence bloody birthed

Stolen flesh from my bone littered closet

Sweaty puddles of youthful immortality

Repugnant realization of lost redemption

The battle is held with mild reservation

Weary from our lack of alignment

How is it possible to hug a knife?

Point side to heart side

Words offering unity while quick to slice

Dividing us vs. them; we against pride

Fervent assurances that the blood is blue

While rejection, ostracism, and denial ring true

Nobody lives here. Nobody dares

Return away, retreat a way over there

There is no inclusion, no balance be found

Teetered the toddler, we all fall down