that's mrs. mediocrity to you

yesterday i read old poems
and laughed at myself

all that anger
leather
tethered
to skinny arms and broken heart

made up armor for mixed up girl
tough skin to hide behind
all painted red and pretty

somewhere along the line
i let it go

all of it

released it into air
that cradled and promised

watched it float away

waved goodbye

shed no tear

now, now

i sit in this same old kitchen
hard chair
curved back
worn slightly by years
of useful

use

i know the scars and scratches
that run beneath my fingers
each one could have been a sentence

or at least
a perfect word

etched along the surface
of sanity

marking time

yesterday i read old poems
and laughed at myself

.

(This post first appeared October 18, 2011).

I find myself with no time for writing this week, barely time for breathing.

Whew. I’ll be back as soon as I’m able.