"something not everyone knows how to love..."
i have discovered warsan shire. the unbearable weight of staying knocked a chip off my heart, but her poem for women who are 'difficult' to love glued it back. she is not difficult to love, this woman with such mastery of words at so young.
praise the soft belly
why do you live in your body like you will be given another? as if it were temporary. you starve it, you let anyone touch it, you berate it. tell it that should be completely different. you tug at your soft flesh, wish it thinner, wish it gone. you fall in love with those who praise the way it sighs under their hands, but who praises the way it holds up your weight, even when you are falling apart?
- warsan shire
as robert smith quipped, i may have started smoking poetry, the words spin 'round in my head so.
it's one of those rare in-between-days, with minimal obligation. i leave for work in another couple of hours.
friday's holiday included me (for once) and i got to lay asleep in the sun, rarer still! it was scorching and delicious and worth the throbbing headache later.
birthday shenanigans were sparse - a day's work, an evening's study for an exam, gifts of many well-wishings and hours of conversation with an old friend too long unseen.
i have been out to visit, taken the long way home to be surprised by street carnivals on the way.
i have arrived home to discover guests, beloved friends all. i have learned how to acknowledge that i adore them (just not all at once in the same space rightthisverymoment!) and retreat to peace and quiet.
i crafted a mix-list of things i've been listening to. it starts quiet and unsure, feeling a little sorry for itself before dusting off the bruises and catapulting back into the fray. at some point, it realizes a need for balance and slows to strange lullabies.
life is good. it's busy and occasionally overwhelming.
i continue to be thankful for the absolute beauty that can be this city in the summertime -- my commute smells like flowers, even if the breeze is still hot as breath.
i am grateful for the love of good friends and continued good health and halfway decent headphones.
praise the soft belly
why do you live in your body like you will be given another? as if it were temporary. you starve it, you let anyone touch it, you berate it. tell it that should be completely different. you tug at your soft flesh, wish it thinner, wish it gone. you fall in love with those who praise the way it sighs under their hands, but who praises the way it holds up your weight, even when you are falling apart?
- warsan shire
as robert smith quipped, i may have started smoking poetry, the words spin 'round in my head so.
it's one of those rare in-between-days, with minimal obligation. i leave for work in another couple of hours.
friday's holiday included me (for once) and i got to lay asleep in the sun, rarer still! it was scorching and delicious and worth the throbbing headache later.
birthday shenanigans were sparse - a day's work, an evening's study for an exam, gifts of many well-wishings and hours of conversation with an old friend too long unseen.
i have been out to visit, taken the long way home to be surprised by street carnivals on the way.
i have arrived home to discover guests, beloved friends all. i have learned how to acknowledge that i adore them (just not all at once in the same space rightthisverymoment!) and retreat to peace and quiet.
i crafted a mix-list of things i've been listening to. it starts quiet and unsure, feeling a little sorry for itself before dusting off the bruises and catapulting back into the fray. at some point, it realizes a need for balance and slows to strange lullabies.
life is good. it's busy and occasionally overwhelming.
i continue to be thankful for the absolute beauty that can be this city in the summertime -- my commute smells like flowers, even if the breeze is still hot as breath.
i am grateful for the love of good friends and continued good health and halfway decent headphones.