my way

i’ve got a chip
on my shoulder
i’ve got
an axe to grind
&
fuck you
i’m gonna do it
my way.

more of this. anger…angst…figuring out who i am. the hero or the anti-hero…i think i am more of the second one. when i try to be the hero things just get messy.
so maybe the trick is accepting that i am not the hero.
& wondering if i ever really even wanted to be the hero.
i mean, i showcase my flaws–i don’t hide them under spandex. i definitely lean to the dark side while still holding something of a moral compass.
i guess things just aren’t as black & white as hero & villain. & who would want them to be? things are much more colorful this way.

dreaming

dreams tumbling
like stones in a river
though i pick through them
admiring the swirls
& colors
i toss them back
into the river
watching
the ripples….
i know
who
i am.

a friend of mine is having some serious ancestral dreams & dreams of spirit animals…
i was feeling a little envious…but, then again, i am ten years her senior & have been doing a buttload of work of my own.
maybe i don’t need my ancestors to talk to me right now.
maybe i know who i am.

(some handy fairies today)

true love

when i was in my early twenties
a therapist tried to get me to
quit
men
& to figure myself
out
instead
i skipped town
& went on a cross-country
20 year long
man-spree
today
after a year (or more–depending)
of no men
i have found that i am doing that work
i mean
i have always had the hobby
of self-analyzation
but with only four kids to distract me
i can really get work done
on me
& you know what i figured out?
i am still
still that twenty-something
year old girl
i am still her
but now–now i have learned
(am learning)
how to be her
how to be true to her
how to be the best me
ever.

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