pop

my heart beats. i often feel it in my fingers, when im still. thump. thump. thud. i search for the spot on my neck that burns with life. still moving.

i'm still moving. it's been three years. three solo years, my feet still hitting the pavement. three years deep in the city. the place i never wanted to live. it's fed me these past few years. just big enough to still feel small. intimate. like the table at a wedding where you can see down its length, faces you know, some you love, others you can't recall their names, but ... you feel the breadth.

it's been over a year since my daughter moved away. the placenta still feels attached some days. dripping. bleeding. open wound. she's become this stunning amazing human, she's like a sparkler that's just been lit. popping, cracking, energy shooting out. i'm watching from a screen. missing the hiss and sizzle from the sparks landing on my face. proximity. i see them. i can't feel them anymore.

do i have that? can i have that? did energy that's in my child come from me? my head feels stuck to the ground, pounding - working. struggling to hit 40 hours at a job that only provides 34. resume. polish that? sure. putting myself on paper - filled me with a strange mix of pride and what the hell? who is that. i did that? i did that! that's me? you see me how? i've never been seen like that. interviews fire me up - im drunk with possibility. my value is sitting in black and white, double spaced, slid onto a desk inside a fresh folder. thank you for your time. we've gone with another candidate.

realign. stay positive. thankful. count the good- god, there's so much good. i'm here. my 12 yr old baby strumming his guitar, mom, look at this - i'm learning this song. check in with my 14 yr old boy - when do i pick you up? i love you, mom. mom, hey mom - why did the chicken cross the road? to get to the idiots house. knock knock. who's there? ..... i had to pull over, laughing so hard i had to grab my breath. he's smirking next to me, his beautiful blonde hair i just want to wrap in my fingers and nose to nose tell him he's loved fiercely. his value is as measurable as the stars blinking quietly above. exactly. it can't be measured.

new year. beginning of four. my value? it's foreign to me, religion and conservatism weighing on me, others first. put yourself last. the toxicity of that is still sometimes draining out. my. value. me. my god, ive got grit. i show up. i can own my shit. tell me how i can do better. i lead. consistency is blood in my veins. i've learned to not just lead with empathy, but with the big picture in front of me. i let my babies make mistakes. look them in the eyes - it's ok. whats different next time? i'm not mad, love. i just want to understand. i apologize. i don't apologize. this is where we're at. my needs are no longer shameful. undeserved. i deserve to be heard. seen. loved. please please make me laugh! it's like broth when you're sick. that first blast of cool air coming in from the searing summer heat. it resets me. fills every corner, every dip and curve. more curves than last year. i love it. i feel soft and warm. naked in front of the mirror. that's me. all of me. i've never loved my skin more.

there's energy. simmering. bubbling. i can feel it as i step onto my porch, the first slant of warm sun spilling over my face. that sparkler is lit, it will catch. it will sizzle and pop and you'll feel it too. catch it with me

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