Being trash turned me on

I spent a long time,

Feeling like trash.

A piece of scrap that,

Couldn’t last.

So it got thrown in the dumpster truck, left behind.

I basically sucked.

And yeah yeah, it wasn’t the truth but that’s the dance of what it feels like to have never really known my dad.

My mom called him sperm donor, so for that — I’m glad my soul chose someone who would teach me to be strong.

Now I soften into what’s left unsaid — like a piece of scrap left in the trash bin.

Last year, around this time, more and more poetry began flowing through my being. I wasn’t just writing it, I was living it.

She… was living me.

Earlier this year, I began sharing more of my poetry out loud but it kept feeling much easier to hide back away.

I’m having so much fun dancing with sharing this creative expression out loud. Not for any other reason than because I WANT TO.

Allowing her to live me. Allowing God to express through me. Letting every word stay raw without filter.