My Sleeping Giant

The body is a field of sensation,

With prickles and tingles,

Those overlapping waves of guilt, anxiety and shame.

It is not a hostile place, although it may seem,

It is my home filled with memories, both seen and unseen.

Like patchwork, disorganized patterns were stitched carelessly,

From a past where careless me would sit lazily.

“You are unworthy and useless,”

Her words filled my capillaries, pumping doubt and insecurity,

Clouded moments evolving a foggy identity.

One morning I created space,

Placing a finger to my third eye, the forgotten came to light,

Bringing with it a warm viscosit glow,oS9ynzW

Soothing the grooves and canals of my weathered soul.

Now a pink illuminating river flows within,

Carrying thoughts that reawaken.

My sleeping giant: so bold and so vascular,

Just waiting for me to rescue her.


Child, Like Me

The struggle wraps around my throat like ropes, twisting and choking. Dark light enters my eyes and my own lightness dims, Where have I gone?  Back to my dark universe, The one I set up so well. Walls painted with fantasies, desires and hopes, Carpeted floors cushioning egos, but I remember all of their footprints. […]