The Blood & The Bones

The reality of it all is, I’m not sure I’m that interesting. I’m also not overly smart or accomplished. Not in the way people seem to value.

Well-read, dark humored, quick tongued but what does that matter in a world of silhouettes and filtered faces?

Where we worry about the picture more than the moment?

The truth is, if you put me beside other women, I don’t know that there’s anything about me that would stand out. And we all say it’s not supposed to be a competition but somehow without my even having playing, it is.
And because I don’t respect the rules, I’ll never win.

I don’t respect them because I won’t conform. I know where the good in me lies.

In my heart I am all beauty and tenderness
my shoulders strong, having carried a weight that would’ve made Atlas shrug.

And I have seen each color of life from the vibrancy of girlhood to the softer shades of being a mother.

And blackness of being lonely but never alone.

I hold that rainbow within me, not without. It’s not supposed to be secret, or maybe it is.
But if you could see the actual depths
see without eyes but instead, with gut
with instinct and that little compass of integrity that guides us to what is good if we listen closely enough
you could really experience who I am if you looked beyond the scars, the cicatrix of badly dressed wounds
see me as I am instead of how the world categorizes me
imperfect, defective, taking up more space than I’m worth
and see that I am more than this erosion, than these battered parts
more than what a camera or a mirror reflects
capable of being all you ever wanted

if you could see me in this way
you would know why I’m so proud of who I’ve become

If you could look beyond desire the world has trained you to want
and see me with your heart

the blood

& the bones