My family's blood is thick

Thick with passion

Thick with contention

Thick with with PTSD
Thank my grandfather for fighting in the war

Thank my grandfather for taking the war home

He left the hero on the battlefield
And return with the empty shells of his gun
Always targeting his own family
With empty promises
And not so empty threats.

 

My grandfather taught to shake when I touch my skin

Because like acidic rain all the humans touch burn

He labeled my eyes: regret

My actions: disappointment

 

I'm afraid of 11:11s

Don't make me make a wish

Hide my wish in the deepest corners of your pockets

So that I won't waste on man who drinks his pride from the beer bottles he makes us buy

 

And like my grandfather I've been asking myself

Am I really beautiful?

Am I delusional to

Think that I could love a skin as bruised as this?

 

My grandfather shoved his anger down into the deepest corners of his soul

The places where the anger turns numb.

Oh Grandpa, you've always wanted someone like you

Won't you be proud to hear

That I'm no longer angry with you

 

But emotions are reincarnated
Into people we didn't knew existed
Negative comments flashed on my writing blog
Respitting the same theme I've heard all my life
The words were different but the message was the same
"You are not good enough."

I didn't know 18 year olds and 78 years olds
Could sound so alike

I don't know what it is
About judgement that makes my play doh heart dry.

 

I don't know what to do

 

I met a two year old,

With energy that stirs jealousy in the sun,

She holds my entire hand with her pinky finger.

She molded my heart into courage

She showed me the stardust in my veins

She was brave enough to ask me to describe the galaxies I see when I close my eyes

 

These men may tell me I'll only ever be

3 out of 5 stars

This galaxy is still discovering her constellations

And Raven says there’s nothing wrong with that

I found one yesterday in the failure of my underdeveloped poetry
I know it sounds strange
But the night watchers
Said I look beautiful
When my words fell out of their place
in the sky and onto
Muddy ground.

 

I've revealed myself to people who didn't love me

I've hid myself from the people who did

I've let go of rights things

And held onto wrong things

But I think that means I'm trying

 

I'm going to keep trying
Even when I'm afraid
That no one will like
The dress I bought online
it has my heart on the sleeve
And it was a choice I made for myself
It feels good
To be independent of my own happiness

 

I will not be the victim.

I will be the poet.
Who continued to spell out
Confidence in her works.

 

And even though it hurts

To readjust the bones

Of what I thought made me the person I am
I learning that I don't have to be same
Person people expect me to be

I'm learning that medicine is good
And disappointment will come

I'm learning to write from the fire within in me
Not the fires that burned me

I've created mountains out of the rocks that were thrown at me
And I've decorated it with sunsets and canyon rides and campfires that made my mouth hurt from smiling

 

This is me stepping into my own shoes
This is me admiring the Christmas lights in my eyes
I know it's only Janurary
But I've been late to every other concert celebrating my own existence
Too busy attending pity parties planned by other people
So I'm choosing to show up now

 

My future is rushing towards me
Like the anthem that May 25th has become

The people of my past

Will never trap me in mud

 

Raven has always loved playing mud

But one day

Raven will wear a delicate white sundress

And someone will

Smear her dreams

Onto to her clothes

Just to show her how muddy her hopes are,

How minuscule she is.

I need to show her now

That it takes

Wiping away flaky

Chips of what you think matters

To cleanse yourself

Of judgement

 

So Let me wipe this piece away:

I will never be Florence Kelley
Karina Pribil is a worthy enough name.
It feels right to be labeled as myself.