Heavy Thoughts
I see a lot of women do this:
They make their way down
A flight of stairs,
But at the last steps
They sit,
Think,
And stay,
Until they are ready
To finish
The rest of their day.
And as a fellow blossom,
I see myself doing the same.
With my brain as a waterfall,
There is just too much to hold --
While it pours
We stop and sit,
Away from those who might see us
On the verge
Of falling --
But the rapids never stop.
Motion is second nature.
There is more water to come,
New shores to be found.
But right now,
With my brain as a waterfall,
I don't feel as invincible.
Not bold enough to be
Dropping over the edge,
Separating as body meets boulder,
So I lay down on my bed;
It is the only way the showers can rotate
Into a flat ocean.
It must be harder for women
Who never sits
And waits for the storm
To be over.
For them, there is only oceans
At a standstill;
There is no way to let them go.
No boulders to cushion any fall,
No fresh water on the way.
Their islands hidden forever,
Days unfinished.
When I’m a woman,
I hope I own
A flight of stairs someday.
This poem is about:
Me