Recorded audio for this one too because it feels very poem-like. So much of my writing happens with Chris in Laguna Writers workshops and I feel so lucky to be a part of that community. 💕
***********************************************************************************************
I spent the last decade not searching, not kissing, not looking for anything I didn’t already have right in front of me I’m still coming out of a deep slumber really, sleepwalking through water, floating to the surface, seeing colors like a newborn feeling my skin like a teenager who just had sex for the first time It’s filling, overflowing, overwhelming too much at times like learning to live again like walking after a coma but there are new creaks in my bones now, and there’s a new story banging around my skull Is this how a butterfly feels being born? So much emerging, cocoon still stuck to her pretty wings when she’s just trying to fly away kick off the dust of the old When do I have to stop talking about it? When is it old news? When do I start to sound dramatic? When do they roll their eyes at the dinner table when it comes up again — Oh this again? She’s still rattling on about this? Can you pass the dinner rolls? But I spent over a decade not feeling enough in my bones, not looking, there’s time to be made up for here Open all the windows, unlock the doors— invite them all in, the ones with the eye twitch and bad manners and loud laugh – if they can kiss I’ll take them the price of admittance a secret — a story that harmed you tell me how you got your scars and I'll show you mine because none of us are getting out of this house alive tonight and we may as well go down fucking and fighting and eating all the leftovers We're not counting calories anymore we’re letting our fat bellies be free we’re burying our faces in each other's sorrows— we’re drinking and eating and laughing and loving up every inch of this house tonight in every way we know how in every way they told us not to we’re doing it — we’re running free, chasing the sunset never coming up for air They’ll find us stuck in the sand in the morning our eyes closed small smiles pressed to our faces ants running over all our limbs we’ll die happy and full and empty of any regrets
Set Your Fat Bellies Free