vesta_aurelia: Fangirl your Armor (Default)
Poetry is not a language of peaceableness
it fights and clamors and wrenches itself free
it gnaws on itself as the serpent
gnaws on Yggdrasil

Yet I am peaceable now, and happy
my self's foundation cemented with love
the butterfly grace of acceptance
and a rock's patient ears

So the poetry of my tongue is stilled
it has no battles to draw it out
no twisting agonies to drive it
no wars to wage

I do not regret losing my pain with my tongue.
vesta_aurelia: Fangirl your Armor (Default)
I have never been this happy
as a grown-up

I have my moments past
of a child's happiness
fleeting heartbeats
of flying joys

they never lasted

But this happiness buoys me
surrounds my life
Not a place I flee to
but a place I stand in

I've found my feet
you won't kick them out from under me
so I don't stand as tall as you
you will hold out a steadying arm
and make sure I'm standing, too

You ask
You listen
You love silence

Did you find me because it was time?
Did I find you because I'm finally able to stand?

Or were men like you always around
And I too blind to see?
vesta_aurelia: Fangirl your Armor (bujold -- choose to be)
I tried to frighten you away
   with my catalog of flaws and failures
   my frightful shames and hypocricies
It had always worked before

You gathered each one up, looked at it, and said
  I am not perfect and neither are you

I tried to box you away
   into some definable category
   that didn't involve me
   being loved
It had always worked before

I was allowed to love, and hopelessly
   for that was what I knew
   and deserved
   to be pouring out always
   and never refilled
   I was taught was my place
It had always been before

To be loved, for myself, as myself
   not as the weekend warrior
   but the farmer's daughter
To have her loved, for all her flaws and failures
   her shames and hypocricies
   was a terror

I -- she -- we kept waiting
   for the push away
   the awkward silence
   the sudden avoidance
   the end
   planned for it, brought it into being
   there would be no surprises
It had always worked before

You didn't change, you only said
  I am not perfect and neither are you

That had never happened before

The child crying "Mama?" in my dark
calls a little less often
she might be starting to believe
Mama lied
vesta_aurelia: Fangirl your Armor (bujold -- choose to be)
   from a distance
   is a vast and dimly featured plain

When we do not live there.

Its deep throes are vague shadows
   more frightening from their lack of boundaries
   their insubstantial edges full of formless terrors

Its bright joys are burning pyres
   too dangerous to touch
   too beautiful to turn away from

This foreign country
   where others, advancing, told us we were unwelcome
   so here at the distance, we stayed
   waiting for the invitation, the outstretched hand
   that said, "Come"

Never knowing
   no invitations are needed

Love is a country
   we each walk to ourselves.


vesta_aurelia: Fangirl your Armor (Default)

January 2016

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