“Before I was formally introduced to my anxiety, I called it by a bunch of other names–nervousness, weakness, timidity. Employers called it laziness, distractedness, and ‘not being a team player.’ My ex called it clinginess. My mother called it oversensitivity and immaturity. But we were all wrong, and learning that we were all wrong, that there was an actual medical thing going on, overwhelmed me because it meant that it wasn’t a tornado of character flaws that landed me where I was. The problem was not that Ii simply chose not to be ‘normal,’ that I allowed my fears, baseless as they may have been, to conquer and dictate so much of my life. The problem was my brain. It was a chemical imbalance, something physical, not imagined.” –Tracy Clayton
Here’s to the kids who live
who live and dare us
may they embarrass us
show us who we are . . . .
Here’s to the kids who live in us
to the kids who live and demand
in the doing
here and now
awestruck and unafraid.
I release you,
my beautiful and terrible fear.
I release you.
my beloved and hated twin,
II don’t know you as myself. . . .
I take myself back, fear.
You are not
my shadow any longer.
In the end she just wanted the house
and a horse not much more what
if he didn’t own the house or worse
not even a horse how do we
separate the things from a man the man from
the things is the man still the same
without his reins it rains every fifteen
minutes it would be foolish to
marry a man without an umbrella did
Cinderella really love the prince or
just the prints on the curtains in the
ballroom . . . .
I still feel that poetry is not medicine–it’s an X-ray. It helps you see the wound and understand it.
-women are some kind of magic
I’ve put up with too much, too long. And now I’m just too intelligent, too powerful, too beautiful, too sure of who I am finally to deserve anything less. –Sandra Cisneros
how is it so easy for you to be kind to people he asked milk and honey dripped from my lips as I answered cause people have not been kind to me –Rupi Kaur
If there were no poetry on any day in the world, poetry would be invented that day. For there would be an intolerable hunger. –Muriel Rukeyser
Poetry’s work is the clarification and magnification of being. –Jane Hirshfield