my biggest fear growing up was that i would become like you. there were always so many unanswered questions haunting your eyes. there was always something fragile– even when you yelled– the cracks in your voice made you seem so breakable.

like a flattened beer can on the street, life has run you over so many times that the solid roads in your eyes are turning to mud. you’ve been here before and you know there is only one way it can end. you’ve already lived this life once over and you know how you die. you’re too damn tired to prevent yourself from doing it again.

i’d only ever seen life as an assembly line of inheritance, where every daughter becomes the mother she said she’d never be. now i’ve looked myself in the eye and seen only green: only life, only potential for growth.

i am not made of the same eroding roads as you. i am green grass grown in dark fertile soils. i am soft earth, permeable earth, the earth that recycles itself. i dig my roots deep in the soil, and nothing can uproot me. i shout the depths of my heart into the stars at night and my meditations hum in the rise of the sun.

i find my strength in the soil.
i discover my voice within the wind.
my passion burns with fire. i gain
perspective from monstrous oceans.
i was born from the womb of this planet.

i could not be you, even if i tried.

i’m not so scared of being like you anymore // a.s.m

while i slither out from
under the covers
below the black
sky that sparkles like diamonds in the light
and start jogging along the dirt
path at the end of your driveway,
you are dreaming
of your childhood dog.
everything in life seems a little brighter
after it’s gone.

i pull my socks off
my feet and push my toes into the dust.
i miss being dirty, i miss
the earth.
a cartwheel– the first time
my hands have touched the
dry ground in so long.
i am a child.

i pull off the scarf
around my neck,
the one you gave me
for my birthday last year, and
let it drop behind me.

i rip off
my white button-down shirt,
my black pants, my boxers.
i am free, falling
to the ground, melting
into the earth, i am clean
i am clean.

i am running, loose,
in the opposite direction
of your house. i am running into
the full moon.
tomorrow you will be
in my past life.
soon this, too, will seem bright.

running away from you, running towards something i’m not sure of yet. // a.s.m