Possible Futures

I legit think 

I am going to die of

Numbing, blinding

Heart-dropping, heart stopping

Empty

Lonliness

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Phenomenal Woman

By Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me

Poems 24/28

AN INCREDIBLE THING

It’s an incredible thing

To be loved by the maker of all things bright and beautiful

To be adored in the way you were made to be adored

Desired according to specifics, your specifics

So when tears fall from your eyes, however little, however monstrous

He collects every single drop,

He bottles your tears

He listens and holds your words like treasure

Like treasure he carries you and he rocks you

He knows just what you need, he knows this is the way you like to be touched

He knows just how to love you, now

He lets you sleep in his arms, rest

And when you wake in the morning

The music of rain tells you he loves you;

Because he is aware that you love rain

And when you are ready to hear it

He says the words

Loud and clear— It isn’t “I love you”

Even though what he tells you in sentence over sentence,

Spells that out in bold, but

That isn’t what he actually says

When he is still talking, giving you all the answers to your questions

Opening the eyes of you heart to see it all

You know—

Even before he finishes—

That you are mended

And that you are stained with

The permanent ink of his consciousness of you

You just know.

Poems 22/28

LIFE IS HARD

Life is hard

Being human is hard

They say love will save us

But forget to tell us

Love is hard too

Love is the hardest of all

Yet not-loving is harder

But in you,

I find that I can lay it all down;

All the turmoil and heartache that comes with living

And I also find that that in itself—

Letting it all go—

Is inscrutably hard

But then what good is anything without

A little sweat there, a little tear there

And maybe a lot

A lot of sweat,

A lot of tears,

A lot of blood?