ben came lumbering in, 

splattering his long limbs 

all over the gray couch 

healing hands

the lights were dim, 

chairs scattered in random places

throughout the room. 

i was standing there, my braid hanging at my back, 

my baby in the front, our hearts touching. 

we both felt heavy, knowing we would be going to the hospital soon, 

we both could not express it fully, 

but we both knew. 

I stood there, as worship music hung low, 

floating to the Father, in remembrance, in reverence, 

in singing prayers..

I felt a strong hand on my shoulder and move down my back 

and begin caressing me in a gentle manner. 

i turned to look, 

and as my eyes traveled up, 

there you were, with compassionate eyes, 

your hand still in the middle of my back, 

i felt my braid move beneath you. 

"We'll be praying for you and Psalm,"

you said softly. 

it felt like you sensed the heaviness too, 

and you willingly leaned forward to touch it 

as you touched me.

and i felt a 

little less 

alone..

 mom sat in the car 

next to me

the heat breathing all over us 

keeping us blanketed 

my girls climbing all over 

our legs our shoulders

the gray seats

she listened intently 

to me 

share my little poems

little tiny snapshots 

of the inside of 

my heart.

I look over and tears 

are streaming down her 

face. 

her voice soft and urgent

“share them”,

she says.

“wrap them in a book

and keep the stories in there” 

“share them”

she says again. 

-the best kind of validation 

what 

massacre

happens to my son

between 

him

living within my skin

drinking my cells. 

my water. 

my organs.

and 

his soft psyche turning 

cruel.

does he not remember

he

is half woman.

-from

yrsa daley ward, in her book

Bone 

"you know she's going to be 

really really dark, right?”

they said disdainfully to 

my mother,

as though she was going to 

be given 

a lump of coal, 

a blackened and charred thing.

what they did not know, 

and what my mother knew, 

is that i was a 

diamond.