Day 1:
numb, exhausted…
is this what it feels like
to be catatonic?
rejection, shock, shame
Day 2:
puffy, angry eyes
lost, confused.
air is such a sad thing…
Day 3:
wake up,
remember Day 1.
sigh
try
to hide the rise and fall of my chest
wish that I was not born to cause pain.
count backwards…
listen to the ticking of MY LIFE,
lay in a hammock (yes, this is my nest)
reflect
about how I must have shocked
my mother when she found out
that someday I had plans to breathe.
Inhale the whole stormy, frothing mess I swam through to get here…
rivers pulse through my veins, barrel through others’ expectations…
smashing them
I watch the glass house fall,
inhale the world, pull tail feathers out of the mockingbird’s song…
allow the shell to break
I make a mess,
bless
my own birth
like a stork flying backwards, glide into the hospital window where I lay in a bassinet
pick up the pen…
sign my own signature
Legitimate
Moccasins at Meadow Arc 
In the Lord’s eyes, we are all legitimate
“Thus saith the LORD, thy redeemer, and he that formed thee from the womb, I am the LORD that maketh all things; that stretcheth forth the heavens alone; that spreadeth abroad the earth by myself; (Isaiah 44:24 KJV)
.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yep
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very powerful, Kimberly!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Dawn. That was a very challenging season.. it wasn’t long after I found out that my biological father, was not my father, that I was Mexican not Hungarian… that my mother not only lied to me about who I was but also claimed that she did it to protect me from knowing that I was Mexican, before telling me not to contact her again…she sent me a certified letter which culminated with a Spanish misspelled goodbye. It was the hardest time in my life.
LikeLike