Grave Optimism

There is a beauty in letting go of toxic people, vibes and, energy

A catharsis in freeing yourself from the gnashes of their fangs

Piercing into the peace of your soul

Past the flesh, a deeper destruction

Blood leaking out of every orifice

til you’re nothin more than skin & bones

Yes. There’s a peace in letting that go.

Because the body will heal, the soul will repair,

The hurt will no longer be there

And you will grow from the energy they’ve sown

But their toxins poison them !

For My Grandmother

Your freckles mirror spots in time.
Growing up I called them dots
Unsure of their meaning, seemingly innocuous
But being older I see the same dots on me
Tickling my skin, imagination
Wonders of where they began.
Whenever we stand side by side I see myself in you
In the dots
I see my grandma, her warts, her spots.
You try to hide warts with make up that’s dark.
A cheetah without spots is a mere cat
You without your identifiers, undone.
Lost is our familial lineage
The unique identity in one mark.

Warts grow, expand,
unplanned.
They attributed Edith May’s to cancer
She says; “my God made me this way”
Warts maturing as the mind does
As the heart grows
As do your wings
angel.