I celebrate my tears 

  
I celebrate my tears

For the little girl who was put in the corner

With the hypnotic sway of the pointing finger 

“Don’t you dare cry” 

Over and over

…like a lullaby 

I celebrate my tears 

For the years of pushing them down

To a dungeon I forgot about

Because

“Tears are a sign of weakness”

So I smiled harder and forced them into secret 

I celebrate my tears 

Because when my baby died

Everyone was allowed to lose their minds 

Except me 

I was positioned to remain 

“Nice and neat”

And keep tears hidden 

In between the sheets

When he is passed out asleep

In the shower for hours screaming

As long as no one was home 

…to listen 

I celebrate my tears because the

Chains are being broken 

And my tears are the ones seeking their freedom!

They run down my cheeks 

In an overzealous reaction 

They stream out proudly!

My tears are speaking loudly 

In pure love and acceptance 

Not the misnomer of weakness 

I celebrate my tears

In all their beautiful radiance 

because…

My tears, unleash the story 

…of my spirit!

I celebrate my tears  

  

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Her Name…Determination

***Thank you Megan 

I want to be a flapper

A symbol of celebration
Dancing in the face of discrimination
Whistle and toot my way into freedom
Among the feast of governing isolation
Change my name 
Change my destination
Opportunity runs in the opposite way of the oncoming 
invasion
set my sights and continue to 
raise them
My eyes embrace a culture devoid of opposition
A deflating rigid system
Baptized into the ocean of 
born again
Frolicking with you into the sun 
Where good times stick like honey
…to a happiness that never ends 
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Inner•spired 

Tonight I am inspired by love. On this journey I am standing up to say…yes, I am worthy to be loved! 

Our pasts can damage our self worth- I think of a brand new white shirt- the perfect white tee- then coffee spills on it during a busy day, finger paint from a little ones grab, blood from trying to save a life that slipped away just seconds before, black makeup from trying to be pretty and play dress up- but the force of tears won out in the end. Not to mention all the hands pointing to say “what a mess”. But I don’t need them to love me anyway. I want to be loved without judgment. I want to be linked up with love by those who see the messy shirt and say “wow look at all she’s survived- awesome!” 

I have to start with myself, I know this. I have to look in the mirror and truly believe I am worth passion and love despite the mess, despite the harsh labels from my past. I am not a mistake- I am unmistakable. Unmistakably me- exactly how my journey has made me. 

Thank you to my friend Eric Syrdal for reminding me beauty is not hiding our joy and our pain but expressing it. Thank you for seeing a warrior in me when I have felt so tired and unsure. Please visit his works, he is a true and real gift to our wp family. 

Love my inner•spirit