Days of the weak
Days of the strong
Yesterday you dropped a bomb
Today you tell me to move along
Weeks turn to months, months into years
Time passes in good form, but I’d rather count in tears
Why are things measured in length
10 years of devotion, so that shows strength?
If all that time adversity lay low?
I’m told it’s success, but who’s to say so?
I’m much more impressed with the 6 months endured,
When I showed up to work with all the pain I’d incurred
Days may all be hours of 24
But some move quite slowly, while others I adore
And who’s to say what this calendar is for?
A construct to keep the masses in good form
But really each of our lives are in no way linear,
And the world may feel much more spinnier
For her one day, for them the next
And so I’d like to revise the text
Allow for fluidity within my week
Experiencing trauma shouldn’t mean I’m meek
Or tough news that comes along and I’m just supposed to push through
There must be something else I can do
To hold myself in a caring space that day
To go easy, and come from a place of play
Retraining my mind to let my heart have a turn
A method that for years I spurned
Or simply didn’t know about
And certainly didn’t give much clout
But now I cannot do without
For too much suffering comes about
When my ego holds tight to the reigns
And my intuition waits in pain
For a time when it will get a chance
To say its two cents, and when it does—
that will last
Latest release, Inner Piece: Decluttering a Soul, available here.