"The white fathers told us, "I think, therefore, I am" and the black mother within each of us – the poet – whispers in our dreams, I feel, therefore I can be free."- Audre Lorde

Monday, September 14, 2009

i use to share my secrets with the lake.
somehow i believed that way god wouldn't hear them.
if i whispered into the stillness of each wave, quietly enough god would't know. nor would the world.
the lake was safe. calm. still. gentle.
when no one was near.
but sometimes i get a little nervous that they'll tell on me. they'll give me away, expose me. so as much as i trusted the water, i feared it.
id fear it'd drown me. eat me. the words i couldnt share with anyone. the feelings. the thoughts. the fears.
just ask the lake, she knows it all.
yesterday at the union station i thought alot about secrets. the hold they have on our lives. the bondage, the freedom, the pain, the guilt, the glory, the joy, the comfort that they can bring. looking at the hundreds of people all around me i wondered what they were hiding. hurting.running from.
we wear secrets like money-belts for travelers. strapped firmly underneath our clothes. protecting what both what we treasure and hate the most. hiding our secrets away from the untrusted. the thief. who will leave us empty. we want them near so we can feel them when we breathe. but sometimes it hurts. and you wish someone would just take your damn money.
sometimes secrets are more like ghosts. that haunt you when you least expect it. when your brushing your teeth. crossing the street. looking at the stars. they creep up.
sometimes their like bees and tacks. that you've swallowed.
they sting and scrape their way down.
sometimes they leave you nauseous in a 10 hour car ride home.
and frightened when your alone.
unfortunately the lake told god my secrets. i suppose s/he knew them all along. still i cant bring myself to talk. so instead, i wait till midnight, and snuggle at the Creator's feet. God sits on a big comfy arm chair and drinks green tea late at night. s/he waits to share. s/he waits for me to sit and there i cry. my god doesn't need words. defenses. pretending. s/he just holds me till the morning.

1 comment:


snail coitus makes me smile