She

This is for my mother, who sat in kitchen on a cold winter afternoon and told her 8 year old daughter to write.

She is the woman who I've modeled myself after ,
everything I am or will be. The woman who became the template for every other female in my life.

She sang to me until I slept
held my hand when I was sick
healed secret hurts with a hug
and kissed scraped knees until the pain was forgotten

She is a sometimes Queen
Who made me a once in a while princess
and when I felt worthless
she called me priceless

She put all this pride behind these brown eyes
and quoted ain't I a woman until I had the line memorized.

She mad it okay to cry and the times when the tears wouldn't come she showed me how to weep through this pen
to put my sould to the page
just to get past the primal rage
I felt.


I didn't want to hear the truth but she kept on bringing it
because I was too full of shit to see it for myself

She was

and

She is

Who I want to be.


_________