holy. fucking. awe.

 
 
 

sometimes my bra is too tight
squeezing me in
and my chest aches
so my heart hurts
then i can't breathe
and i realize i'm not living.

i'm suffocating in the programing. 
tellling me the how of it
making sure i forget the wow of it
but everything wild in me wants back in.

back in to the room
so i can grow into the cracks
and take over the whole damn place
with freshness unfurling
blossoms blooming
shoots determindly reaching.

back into the conversation so
my truth will rise like a high tide
sweeping shorelines into new shapes
and clearing out debris.

back into the queen seat
where i no longer
squish and squander and deny
the whole of it
the gold of it
the wild brilliant powerful
mess of me.

i remember forgotten times
and past lives
holy debauchery
sacred witchery
sisterhood
blessing ways and
burning rites.

i pull the bra off. 
drop the pants down. 
i get naked with it
this is a holy strip tease
shake down.

no more hiding
and tucking wisdom away
or denying the rising of the
wise woman inside. 
she is here and here to stay.

and she has a fucking LOT to say.

layer by layer, 
i strip it down, 
all that's in the way
crushing me
sucking the light out of me,
hurting the heart of me.

i strip and i release
flames rise, sparks fly
smoke curls into a vast starry sky.

i will do this again and again
until the too tight clothes are gone
the out grown names
released
and the flesh
the skin
the raw
the bone
bleeds the truth
into being.

my soul is coming home
there is no other name for this than
holy. fucking. awe.