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Mimi

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email: Tommilaflare@gmail.com

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Rebirth in Motion


When I look in the mirror,

I see a woman who has walked, 

run, 

flown,

and fallen. 

A woman who has failed as much as she’s triumphed. 

Cried as much as she’s laughed. 

Cursed as much as she’s prayed. 

The woman staring back at me,

she’s loyal to no one,

and nothing. 

except the act of rebirth. 

She’s a warrior. 

A goddess. 

A dreamer. 

A survivor. 

I see a woman who’s begged to be loved and walked away as lovers dropped to their knees, begging her to stay. 

She’s picked up all that she could carry and run away,

more times than she can count. 

Arms tight against her ribs, 

clutching pieces of her life.

Leaving a trail behind her,

tumbling in her wake. 

Too desperate for escape 

to stop and retrieve them. 


It’s okay. 

She’ll make new memories. 

Buy new things. 

She’s learned how to let go.

Become an expert

At moving on with empty hands 

And quiet hope.

After all, 

starting over is the oldest friend she knows. 


She knows beginnings 

like the back of her hand. 

They’ve taken long walks in the park, laughed at corny jokes, 

and wept.

Sinking down.

Knees to chest,

onto cold porcelain 

Fallen teardrops

Mingling with the shower stream


This woman, 

She’s fearless. 

On the outside, at least. 

Inside,

she trembles. 

Unsure what each day will bring. 

Never knowing 

when the next signal to run 

will come. 


Like the toll of a bell,

Demanding, 

she abandon this journey, 

And start again. 


You see, 

for as long as she can remember, 

life has been a coyote 

and she,

a rabbit. 

Always on edge.

Always alert. 

Always aware of danger 

lurking in the shadows, 

patiently waiting,

for the moment to strike. 


The woman before me knows:

peace isn’t given. 

It’s snatched from the heavens 

after waging a war 

that can only be fought within the soul. 


She’s trudged through the shadows 

to open the blinds, 

using sunlight as her weapon

to burn through the darkness, 

taking residence deep inside. 


The woman you see here today 

She’s been up, 

down,

and all around. 


and she’s here to say:

The running ends today. 

I’m here to stay. 

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Inheritance


It’s been 1,760 days since we’ve spoken. 

But I hear your voice in my head often. 

Your words used to cut through me 

like razor blades, Sharp and sudden.

Now, they glide like a butter knife. 

Slow and cruel,

Still Desperate to do damage.  


It’s been 42,240 hours 

since we’ve been in the same room.

But your face greets me in mirrors.

Lurks in the corners of my dreams,

That look of disappointment 

you wear so well 

bores deep into my soul. 


It’s been 4 years, 9 months and 25 days 

since I chose to love myself 

more than I feared losing you 

So why does your ghost still follow me? 

I used to set myself on fire

As an act of rebellion 

Sending smoke signals

That screamed, 

I don't need your approval 


Truth is, 

I was waiting for you 

To notice the smoke.

To stamp out the fire.

To show you cared.


I used to fear your shadow.

Feared waking up to your voice 

Harmonizing with mine.

Feared feeling your bitterness

Stitched into my skin


But now I see, 

I’m not you. 

Yes,

 pieces of you reside within me.

It’s your hips I swing, when I strut 

Your laughter spills from my mouth


But I am not you.


Every mirror holds your reflection.

Your habits sprout inside me

Like seeds I never meant to water.

But I’ve learned,

I don’t have to let them grow 

I don’t have to feed 

What tries to consume me


They say we become our parents as we age

Maybe I’ve inherited your shape,

But not your shadow.

Maybe I carry your voice,

But I’ve taught it new words.


You still haunt the halls of my body

But I’ve stopped letting you rearrange the furniture 


Perhaps I’ll always flinch at my reflection 

But I’ll take these pieces you left behind

And  build something else.

I live here now

And I’m learning to call it home.

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Hometown Glory


I’m from cotton fields and oil mills.

I’m from fireworks echoing through canyon walls.

I’m from loud music, spades, dominos, go sit at the kid’s table.

Barefoot summers on hot pavement.

 

Koolaid pickles and dime candies from the candy lady.

I’m from beauty salon, liquor store, check cashing, 

church, pawn shop, liquor store, liquor store, church. 

I’m from absent father, narcissistic mother,

The eldest daughter who raised herself.

 

I’m from Newport 100s, Bud Ice and c-sections.

Late night shifts. week-long sleepovers at granny’s.

 Housekeys swinging from lanyards.

I’m from Sunday service, Wednesday service, choir practice, praise dance.

I’m from, do it because I said so.

 

I’m from A honor rolls and after-school debate clubs.

From, “my mom forgot me again, could your mom take me home?”

I’m from, “you’ll never be better than me”

I’m from dingy locker rooms and $20 lap dances. 

I’m from corner store cat calls and men who never saw me.

 

I’m from black eyes and broken bones.

A black sheep who birthed an even blacker sheep.

I’m from college textbooks and student org meetings.

From city bus rides, stolen formula, DV shelters.

 

I’m from court testimonies and underestimation.

Daddy issues, mommy issues, trust issues.

From praying women and men soaked in gin.

I’m from, you were never supposed to make it.