Give me something to believe in,
and then give me something to
hold on to, something that is firm
in my hands, lightweight and gentle,
kind with my growth spurts, steady
in the wind.
It's nice knowing that I can breathe
now, and that I can focus on who I
really am, or who I have always been,
and where I've always wanted to go.
It feels magical and effortless, like
these moments were prepared
especially for me.
Take my hand, help me find where
I belong, and where I work best. I am
lifting my veil, and seeing the world
for the beauty it holds. I've made peace
with, and am understanding, that there
are experiences that only I can bring to
life, because I am the only one who lived
it like me, through my eyes, my hands,
my body.
So now, I speak.
YOU ARE READING
CLOUDS FOR MY EYES
PoetryThis prose-poetry chapbook explores themes of clouded judgments, devotion and deconstruction, and cotton fields where a belief in purpose and a belief in freedom no longer align. New poems released every Thursday at 9PM MST/11PM EST.
