Filling

In childhood we learn to hide who we really are

The vulnerable parts

Are simply too tasty for bullies

Who beat us into submission,

Until we become a shell.

Until we become our own bullies.

Now, as an adult

Trying to fill this shell feels daunting

Where do I even begin?

What do I even like?

Who am I?

But here I am,

Showing up

With pen to paper

And paper to the world 

I will be me again. 

Café

Oh, Symbolic hyperbolic Coffee

Your bitterness fills me to the depths of my soul

And washes away life’s tortures.

The intensity of your cup 

Helps me to drown myself out.

Assisted suicide of the Self,

Of the Creative within,

That has folded year after year

To fit into this tiny box labeled:

Corporate Drone