Don’t misunderstand me. When I say I’m only human I mean I can no longer stand your brutal silence. I can no longer be your emotional punching bag.   Don’t misunderstand me. When I say I’ve been busy I mean I have been depressed, bored, lonely falling asleep to Grey’s Anatomy reruns on the sofa.   Don’t misunderstand me. When I say I can’t meet you I mean it’s not possible to look at you another minute without touching you.   Don’t misunderstand me. When I say it’s late I mean my shattered heart cannot drag my body out of this bed — this bed that has become my tomb.    

 

      “Whoa! That is far down,” I peered over the waterfall fall. We were in Hawaii. Kauai. Na Pali Coast. 11-miles around most of the high land. The trail went around the coast lined with jagged rock. The death tally on a sign was at 63 that year. The waterfall, we discovered, was 2 miles in. “You want to jump?” “Yes,” he said to me with the hugest look of fearlessness on his face. “This is living! Look how beautiful!” “We could have gone bungee jumping you know,” I had slight fear of heights. “Where’s the fun in that? We don’t need a cord. It’s a simple jump in safely deep waters,” he warmed up my shivering body. “What’s stopping you? It’s just me and you. I can handle who you are.” “It's just that my friends…..” I was interrupted by him. He usually didn’t interrupt me. “…your friends aren’t here. They only know pieces of you. And, I must remind you that they had the same opportunity as you did to be here.” The warmth of his body was so right for me. “This is...

  She whispers to her own: "Tonight, we fly among the stars. This full moon, the fear in their hearts  Will be inspired by us. They will clutch their children And shy away from Her,  As they have always done, Since man has thought himself Learned enough to close his mind."

 

  I was not born to be small, not carved from hush, not designed to disappear.   I will not acquiesce, or negotiate who I am with you.   I will not barter my skin, trade soft-spokeness for your comfort.   I will not reshape my words to fit your blueprint.   I will not shrink, smooth, hush, or squeeze into the closet of your design.   I will not silence myself, not for you, not for the world, not for the ghost in the mirror who once begged to be small.   I will not unbecome to make you whole, apologize for taking up air, for burning too bright, for loving too loud.   I will not dim my shine, soften my blaze, or make my survival a polite anecdote.   I am unapologetic, unbargained, beautifully broken, And untouched by your demands.