life poetry
-
They speak in easy sentences,as though motherhoodis measured by a single meal. A chicken nugget.A bedtime missed.A moment caughtwithout the thousandthat came before it. They don’t countthe mornings I rosebefore the sun remembered my name.They don’t countthe tiny hands reaching,the tears I soothed,the stories I readfor the hundredth time. They don’t carrythe grocery bags,the sleepless…
-
I hope you’re laughing. I hope your knees are grass-stained, Your shoes are caked with dirt, And your faces ache From smiling too much. I hope you stay up too late, Catch fireflies in your hands, Tell stories that make no sense, And believe this summer Will last forever. I hope you’re making memories. God…
-
They call it a custody battle. But battles have finish lines. This feels more likeHolding my breathFor weeks that become months,Waiting for strangersTo decide pieces of our lives. I wake each morningStill their mother.No ruling can change that.No courtroom can eraseThe years stitched into my heart. Some days hope is loud.Some days fear sits beside…
Between Bruises and Blooms 