Lost Poem

These last couple weeks, I haven't been able to find the inspiration to write. I feel really sad, really anxious. I also feel bad for my husband and for the kids that I haven't been myself lately. I'm dealing with some sad realizations that I am too scared to talk about publicly because they involve others. I want to break free from this rut because I have so much planned, so much to work on. I need to get right! For now I will share a poem I wrote about privilege and walking together. I wrote it when I was trying to figure out how I felt about a situation that happened a couple months ago.

Now even in my finest hour.
My moment to shine. 

I am called selfish 

because I AM SPEAKING OUT. 

I am angry, I am mean. 

Because I am choosing freedom 

and I'm making it ring.

I am portrayed as a reversal of roles 

because I am choosing to be 

proud of my divine toll.

I have to include you, I have to cater to 

your happiness, in my space?

But you know... 

I do not fear this desire to share.

This desire to make you 

comfortable even when you don't 

realize what I share. 

I have this powerful 

strut about me.

This significant poise.

I know that I am valued

even if earth wont abide with my choice. 

I understand I am valued 

from a being above.

I feel my hearts desires
intertwined with those 

who prior to me knew how to love. 

The ones who knew how to dispose of 

revulsion. 

And knew how to share compassion.

Who stood for something above

this carnal refuge.

This carcass of skin... hair... bone...

They rose free of 

hate when they were 

sent to reign above.

I understand your slouch.

Maybe together we can figure 

it all out. 

Maybe together we can learn to 

put these feelings past

except every time I try 

I feel this sudden thrust.

I won't ease up until you 

acknowledge that privilege 

entrusted, the privilege you've enable to last. 

I can't do it until 

you are sure of what 

will be asked. 

To give up your right to be that being 

you didn't know you'd become, 

tell me is that fair to request it? 

Are you ready to stand naked

to be seen for who you are. 

Crippled, disarmed, still bless-ed?

Are you ready to kneel, to succumb, 

to work until the blood from your hands

and feet make rivers deep. 

Are you ready to walk next to me

To speak with my sing-song accent 

to be undistinguished, to weep. 

To be seen and judged, 

to be set apart, to feel cast aside,

rejected.

You don't have to walk

BUT if you do, well help each other along.

Once you jump you can't go back, 

because if you leave your heart might break

I don't want you bouncing around with that mistake.

Will this work, will you be okay? 

Don't forget I loved you before 

you said you'd stay.