There she is again,
Drifting in her quiet way.
A master at minimizing existence,
Carefully avoiding a telltale gaze.
Hiding away her hermitted soul,
She hardly takes up space.
Because she doesn't deserve it.
Doesn't need it.
Doesn't know it.
Shouldn't crave it.
Every voice but hers,
Is ripping through the silence.
Unnecessary two cents,
Unbidden and vicious.
She's too quiet. She's plain.
Ugh, she's so loud!
She gained weight,
She's scrawny,
Off-putting...
Too proud.
Maybe You, are this woman.
If so, darling come inside.
The kettle's on.
There's a spot by the fire.
It'll burn all night
Till our souls are good and spent.
Breathing deeply,
sighing loudly,
Crying freely...
So content.
Come share some world with me...
I know it's scary. We'll take it slow.
We'll laugh and cry together,
And pick up pieces as we go.
You're allowed to take your time,
Your story's worth the wait.
Ask much,
Laugh much,
Love much...
You're safe.
I have confidence in this...
When you've healed enough one day
You'll unhinge the world,
In your own precious way.
Because you'll know...
You were born to take up the room...
To be opulent and ridiculous,
Tender and fierce,
Intentional and meticulous.
Born for the real
The raw...
The weird...
And the Dangerous...
About the Creator
Abbey Ness
Recipe for Pondering:
Hot Drink, optional
Honesty (just between you and me)
A cat demanding attention at every moment of her waking life... No Substitutes...
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Comments (1)
What a wonderful poem- I especially loved the ending from you were born…