Button - A small button that in large letters reads “ANXIOUS”

A Keychain  - Small and wooden. Made by someone I love. 

A Fidget Cube - For when paired with the anxious button, makes perfect sense.

A Small Red Wooden Hippo - A reminder that I have thoughtful friends who think to bring back trinkets from their busy trips

A Quarter - Not a special one by any means. I had no where else to put it and now this is where it belongs.

The dust that emerge from the stars 

Bright like the rainbows 

That glisten 

On thunderbirds 

Who bring sweet rain 

That dances

I am 

You mother 

Who sings 

Melodic songs and lyrics from my breasts 

Who wipes tears 

And sends the tears 

To the soil 

I am your auntie 

Who cries with you 

Hugs your spirit 

And colors 

Your Grey days 

I am 

A lover 

Who strikes vibrant 

Lighting 

With thunder crashes 

Listen, and you will hear 

Like humming bird wings 

That buzz 

And flutter 

I am the earth 

Rooted with knowledge, 

Stems and veins 

Creations of many generations 

I am strong with scars 

Deep wounds 

I am an artist 

Creating from blood memory 

I am my ancestors my ancestors are me 

I am beautiful

I am a child

And a triangle of soft silky fabric.

I am a question

And another

And another

And another.

I am scared

And vulnerable

And alone.

I am a god,

And a cosmic, creative entity.

I am alone in my room because I want to be.

I am singing worlds into existence.

I am quiet, so quiet my silence becomes a shout,

And only the wrong people hear.

I am small, so minuscule so as to not be seen lying on the floor,

Yet if you step on me, feel my sharp edges and corners digging into the tender flesh of your sole and know that I am there,

And know that I will not be broken by your foot, hand, words, actions.

I would wave my wand and smooth the worries from her face.

I would pour potions to open her eyes and let her see me.

I would consult the old magic to find ways to erase the scores and tallies that she keeps carved high on her walls.

I would craft golems and automatons to build a bridge across her defenses.

I would make bargains with djinns that control the winds to keep her comfortable, to make her hammock gently sway and fill the air with perfumes.

I am grateful for Chopin, for the patterns and rhythms on ivory, ebony, foot on pedals. For the hours of calls during commutes, tragedy, comedy, conflict, humor.

I am grateful for loose tea, the herbal steam on late nights, the jolt of caffeine through early mornings, the warmth of a home I never thought I could have. For the shared laughs, and the hugs, and the tears.

I am grateful for the beach, the grit of the sand between my shoes and the concrete, the wind off the bay cooling our sweat and guarding our secrets. For the taste of lime and tequila mixed with childhood stories and recent heartbreaks on our tongues.