I might break down every once in a while, but don't forget that I'm strong.
I'm strong as fuck. That sounds pretentious, and I don't care.
I'm not strong because I want to be - I'm strong because I have to be...
because of the cards I've been dealt. I'm strong because other people
need me to be, because the world needs me to be, and because I need
me to be. I might not be as strong as I think sometimes, but I know I'm stronger
than I think most of the time - because no matter what happens,
I just keep going, just keep singing, just keep writing, just keep dreaming, just keep on being.
What else could I ask of me?
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
I wrote a poem today, and it's not very nice. I saw this woman in the park and she just... well, read the poem.
Her smile looks like a lie.It's not very happy. I felt almost guilty writing it. I felt like I should follow it up by writing about the couple with their baby girl who looked just so happy to be alive - but I didn't have another poem in me. I haven't written in so long.. and I'm rusty. I've written a couple of poems in the last month, and it's not prolific in any sense of the word... but it feels good to be writing again.
(Her children precede her, running,
grabbing, shaking apart at the seams,
two boys in worn out sneakers,
t-shirts plastered with corporate America,
eight dollar haircuts.
The air around them is jagged and agitated,
all orange and green.)
Her feet drag,
her belly is swollen beneath ill-fitting clothes,
her hair is undone and unwashed,
and her smile,
it looks like defeat.