Self Portrait: Day Forty-Four

i'm re-learning
how to
b e

(sometimes i lose my way,
forget my name,
crash my own parties)

i love remembering
what it's like
to feel like
m e

Self Portrait: Day Forty-Three

sometimes something old
is just what i need
to coat my heart gold

Self Portrait: Day Forty-Two

i live in these
because i like the illusion
of being

Self Portrait: Day Forty-One

there's no good way to tell me
i'm looking un-incredible today
i'm waiting for a muse
to piece me back together


Self Portrait: Day Forty

today i was a floral monstrosity,
the perfect hideaway for bears
and hearts


Today I’m a floral monstrosity, a firework garden of peony and azalea and daisy and narcissus.  Purple silky roses nip my ears and golden forget-me-nots crown my toes (but only an unadorned single diamond perches on my nose).  Primrose and foxglove and jasmine and hydrangea creep up my arms and hug my torso before gushing over my thighs like a thick cloud of amethyst purple and canary yellow and apricot orange and aquamarine blue and peacock green.  The scent of sweet cherry blossoms swim about my neck and wrists, fragrant reminders of both botanic summer whispers and infectious howls of laughter, thoughts that keep me sane when my legs threaten to whisk the rest of me away from here.  Inside my chest a brilliant bird of paradise erupts into a blossom, its sharp wings of poetry puncturing the doubt that wastes me.  Incessantly are petals crushed and stems cut short, but all I know is hearts that break can bloom into splendor and shame the living who are not really living.


Self Portrait: Day Thirty-Nine

a vintage bluebird nests in my hair
mumford & sons fills my head
i'm praying for people everywhere
trying to honor the tragedies i've read


Self Portrait: Day Thirty-Eight

dear shark week:

i miss you.  please come back soon.  you are beautiful just the way you are--
don't let any jerks tell you otherwise.

the confetti monster

Self Portrait: Day Thirty-Seven

i turned the fantasy in my head
into a crown of lovelies instead

Self Portrait: Day Thirty-Six

art club
representin' my homies at the farmers' market

Self Portrait: Day Thirty-Five

tonight my heart is waste and shame
(i'm counting the seconds till i feel the same
as anything, anything but plain)

Self Portrait: Day Thirty-Four

confetti monster
glitter paws

Self Portrait: Day Thirty-Three

polar bear around my neck
can't deter my forehead's sweat



Self Portrait: Day Thirty

a storm brewed above our music fest
and forced the acoustics to take a rest
but secretly we adored the thrill of the tempest


Self Portrait: Day Nineteen

somewhere in the middle
is a super nova poet
spilling her words like confetti
over your nicely groomed hair


Self Portrait: Day Eighteen

breaking me open
and gutting clean my chest--
the world's advertisement
that Attractive is Best