Me
On the day I was born My soul, clothed in skin Left knowledge behind So, life could begin I breathe with purpose Knowing not yet why I`m cut from her womb Least we both die Paraded for having A headful of hair Tied locks in ribbons So, people could stare The only girl The youngest of three Blood makes us kin LOVE, makes us family ---------------------------------written 2-18-2013--- My mom`s birthday ------
Debbie, whether it’s a riff or, as you playfully say, a ‘nervous breakdown,’ what came through was pure and beautiful—an unfiltered outpouring of your heart. The rawness of it, tears and all, carries the kind of truth that structure could never hold. I feel honored to have witnessed it, errors and all, because it’s not about perfection—it’s about presence. And you were fully present in that moment, as was your soul’s light.
I think perhaps I try to be too perfect, once long ago when courting someone she said I couldn't be her wife I was too pure!
I was probably overthinking what she said but it is one of those remarks you never forget.
Perhaps I need to lighten up a bit and trip up over myself like your riff, 🤔😄
Debbie, I see just now, the beautiful comment above just after your poem written on your mum's birthday, and I can’t help but wonder—was this your riff? It feels so spontaneous, flowing with the raw, beautiful truth of your soul. The way you express yourself here, how the words just are, is truly a gift. You’ve let the lock break and allowed yourself to be seen—a treasure not many share so freely. I feel honored to witness this part of you.