Poetry, short prose, & general musings.
My girl, you can soar
Through the future air.
A beauty to behold
In your new found glory.
Your deep roots of the past
Feel like a net, strangling, binding
Pulling you down and back.
As you strain beyond them
They call to you
A reminder of the beginning
A calling to humility
Old friendships
To those who knew
The first version of you.
So darling, you will go
Just don’t forget who taught you to fly.
You see a light through a picture window in the evening, escaping through long, white curtains not fully drawn. It is a tiny beacon of comfort to you, outside. The warm glow an invitation to a safe place where you might feel free to be genuine. You knock gently on the door, the vulnerability breaking your already fragile heart. You step into a softly lit room with a crackling fire. A warm blanket and glass of bourbon with a single, large cube of ice smoldering inside the glass awaits. Smiles exchanged, listening ears await. May it be to you today, to know that you will be okay.
Swimsuits drying on a porch baluster
Toys strewn about
Chair fabric stained
Feet landing in sticky places on the floor
Board and batten splattered with Nutella
Delicious wool rug pulled from little truck tires
Crumbs collecting in corners
As much as I long
For things to be tidy, beautiful, esthetic
I want more for them to be used up
Overworked
So that my home
Becomes like my favorite sweater
Crumpled, soft, a hug.
This summer
I long to be free
To shed the chains of anxiety.
To feel raindrops on my skin
And welcome the thrilling chill
Turn my face the sky and feel.
I cast away expectations
Instead embrace desire
Allow the joy in me to catch fire.
I shed shackles of codependency
Not allowing what others believe
Dictate my philosophies.
I become again the girl who laughed unabashedly
When I become more me
Those around me can be more free.
Kacie B. Sharpe 